The Touch Of The Darkness
by LadyBadass
Summary: After Lana abandoned Drake at Coates, he is desperate to get her back. While settling down in Perdido Beach, Lana meets another struggling teenager who helps her getting back on track. Meanwhile, the Gaiaphage is starting to reach out to both Lana and Drake, tearing apart their insides as they are slowly loosing their minds. Sequel to The Touch Of A Healer!
1. Nostalgic

**Soundtrack: Walking In My Shoes - Depeche Mode**

**So, before you read this; I edited my authors note on The Touch Of A Healer and made it into the twelth and last chapter, just to have a better transition from one story to another. It is really short (about the length of the first chapter of TTOAH), so I guess you could refer to them as prologue and epilogue for the story. Hope you'll take your time to read that before you start off with this, though it doesn't make it any harder understanding this story if you don't. **

**And I'm really sorry about me being so unorganized lately and updating chapters and publishing the wrong ones. I'll try to improve!**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

He toned out Sam as the speech was spoken. Not because he found it uninteresting, or because he was a disloyal friend or whatever. Not that, though his disloyalty just triggered the pain surging through him as the teenagers applauded for the "heroes" of the FAYZ and some even clapped him on the back, as if he was actually counted as one of them.

The memories of what he had done drained him further then his sleep deprived nights had already done to him. That kid... Why didn't he save it? Maybe he would've shot it instead of the coyotes by mistake, but what is worse? Putting the kids life at risk, or accepting that he was dead meat? He closed his eyes forcefully, trying to forget, but it was impossible to do so.

In fear of attracting unwanted attention, he lets his eyelids slip open again and tried to look as normal as possible. More desperate then ever to blend into the crowd, even though his strawknitted fedora said otherwise. He picked up his waterglass and sipped in cautiously, seeing another person through the transparent glass.

From the other side of the table, he watched Lana with close eyes, even after placing the glass back onto the table. If there was one person looking more exhausted then him, it was Lana. She seemed more then ready to collapse and he felt sorry for her. He wanted to speak to her, ask her if she was okay, if there was anything he could do to help, but his low status made him reconsider it deeply.

'Quinn?' the voice of his former best friend speaking directly to him pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up from where he was sitting to greet the all too forgiving Sam standing behind him, a cheerful smile plastered onto his features. 'Would you do me a favor and keep an eye on Little Pete?'

'No prob, brah,' Quinn replied. Because there wasn't a problem. Other then the remorse surging through him at the thought of Sam letting Quinn back into his life, giving him the chance to earn his trust over again. He hated himself for what he had done to Sam. Nonetheless how accepting Sam had become just over the past week.

Sam smiled thankfully at Quinn, before he stalked off with Astrid, leaving Little Pete behind with him. Quinn stayed at the table, picking at the pie and turkey that was left on his plate. Little Pete was easy watching, he never seemed to need anything. They could just stay at the table for those hours that Sam and Astrid would be gone, and Little Pete wouldn't mind that his only entertainment would be his gameboy.

So while the four year old sat next to him on the bench, playing like another hardcore teenager, Quinn glanced up at Lana. Just like him, she was picking at her own leftovers, though she didn't seem to do it out of boredom. She did it more relentlessly, as if she was stabbing imaginary people. Quinn found himself threatened by the way her eyes were the same as those of a predator, but somehow it seemed to fascinate him at the same time.

He must have seemed like a creep, sitting there for an hour straight, staring at the innocent girl before him, but he couldn't help himself. His mind was set on autopilot and he kept telling himself to stand up for himself and start off a conversation with her. But he couldn't make himself do so. After all; they were strangers to one another!

Well, not really. They knew each other, or they weren't _completely_ strangers anyways. After all, they had both been in the small deserted cabin when the coyotes attacked. And he had been the one to catch her when she fainted just three days earlier, followed by carrying her to Astrids house afterwards.

So no, they weren't complete strangers. But the only interaction that had ever occurred between the two of them was either while she was unconscious, or killing coyotes with a piece of gold, and it didn't make them best friends. Just like it didn't make him talk to her either.

But even with this on the table, the _real_ obstacle, was that she was so much higher in status then he was. Compared to each other, she was like a celebrity and he was a homeless. Then again, Sam, the only other person who could ever cooperate with Lana, was friends with people such as himself.

Or used to be...

_You know what,_ he thought to himself. _Screw it!_

'Hey Lana, how are you-' he started off, looking up from his plate to greet nothing but empty space before him. His head flicked from left to right and finally he spotted her back turned at him as she stalked off to wherever she had now claimed as her new house.

He told himself that if it hadn't been for Little Pete, he would've followed her and kept her company. But he knew that Little Pete could walk. He knew deep down that the real reason simply was because he didn't have more courage then what he got in the heat of the moment.

* * *

Drake sat in the chair that belonged former shrink, in the room he knew all to well from his time back at Coates. He had occupied the office as his own after Lana left him. When realization had struck him, the room had literally been torn apart. He couldn't stand the constant reminder of their first time. _His _first time.

Part of him felt utterly humiliated by the fact that he had lost himself over a girl. But a bigger part was yelling with destructive rage over the fact that _she_ was the one to leave him. How the hell dared she?! She didn't actually think she had the right to do so, did she? That she would get away with doing so? How ignorant was she?

He had wanted to go after her, man he still wanted to.

But not yet. No, not just yet.

He needed to gather strength first. Meaning not only recruits that would back him up when Sam and Edilio and the rest of the idiots who would try to fight back. No, he also needed to gather his own strength. And what was left of his dignity.

What made it worse was Diana. She knew, he was sure of it. The way she looked at him whenever they saw each other. Yet, she didn't comment anything, which was worse then if she did open her stupid mouth, letting yet another snarky comment get ahead of herself.

He looked down at the nine guns laying at the table before him, next to his stocked up feet. Man, how good it would feel to put a gun to her head. Even though Caine had returned with Pack Leader the day before, and even though he was somewhere at the school ground only a couple hundred yards away; he was still a couple hundred solar systems away when it came to his mental condition.

There was no guarantee that he would ever recover from the shock the Darkness had given him. So killing Diana now would be the perfect timing. Though he'd have to kill Caine first, just to be on the safe side.

And although Drake hated to admit it: he needed Caine. This of course was a chance for him to take charge at Coates and recruit guys who might just be stupid enough to team up with him. Though if he ever wanted Sam dead, he'd need Caine to do it for him.

And then, when Caine least expected it, he'd be stabbed straight in the back. He'd torture them both. Him and Diana. Of course Caine would be cemented first. Drake would even cement every inch of the sociopaths body, if that was what it took for him to be restrained of power.

The leftovers of troubled kids that had stayed at Coates would all be too scared to stand up against Drake. They all were scared, but seeing their former leader dead would make them obey at every cost. And then he'd have the backup he needed to get Lana back.

A girl was not allowed to push him around like that.

He'd punish her for acting the way she had. He would. When he found her. He would hunt her down if that is what it took for him to find her. And then he would make her regret every single breath she had inhaled since the very moment she left him.

* * *

**So, Quinn was the new guy, which was most likely very predictable since it was a famous request. Sadly, I don't like Quinn much, and so writing now my second fanfiction with him is nagging at my very soul. So you won't be reading much from his point of view, because I don't handle his overdramaticness, no matter how fucked his life may or may not be. Anyways, hope you liked this chapter although it was really bad and short. The next one will be up soon enough and it'll hopefully be better!**

**Please review, even if you did not enjoy! ;)**


	2. Persistent

****Soundtrack: Don't Run Our Hearts Around - Black Mountain****

**Sorry about the long wait. Finals have arrived and I've got runners knee, so I'm really upset and sort of forgot about the story. Anyways, thanks for the reviews and sorry if I offended anyone by exposing my dislike for Quinn.**

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THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

It had been 78 days since the FAYZ occurred, and during that time, Lana had lived in five different places - if you counted Hermit Jims shack, lived on canned beans and stew, read 46 books and healed just about a dozen of kids. So you could probably say that she wasn't having the time of her life, living with her dog as the only company as she slowly starved to death, having read the only books worth reading and know being stuck with old classics and healing even the smallest wounds of the stupid brats that roamed the town.

_Come to me..._

She dropped her 47th book onto the ground as the worst part of it all searched her mind for power. Just as she was about to bend down and pick up her book, the words repeated themselves, this time with daggers stabbing at the very core of her brain and she soon found herself collapsed in a puddle on the ground by the books.

The pain slowly subsided, just in time for the knock. As she walked stiffly toward the door, gun in hand and Patrick by her side, she felt the all to familiar desiring hope of who might be outside. But just like all the other times she had a visitor; Quinn was the one who greeted her.

'You're earlier today,' she stated. Ever since she moved into Clifftop, he would come visit her. He had before as well, those few days she spent in a house with Astrid and her younger brother. Though then, she had gotten the impression that he was mainly there to see Sam, who did not directly _live_ there, yet spent every minute of his spare time at the house. Now, he had no excuses as for the daily check ups he did on Lana.

'Was your cantaloupe picking finished off early?' she tried to smile. She truly did try, but the expression that struck her features looked so pained and tragic, there were no words to describe it other then the depressing aura she tried to suppress through it.

'Today is my day off,' he stated, and when Lana didn't bother to ask, he sighed and continued on his own. 'I slept in and then visited Astrid, hoping that Sam was there and that he might have time to surf. Astrid sent me away before I even got the chance to invite him.'

He seemed utterly sad about his rejection as he stared at the ground. She didn't really have the energy for pitying him.

'You know, if pity is what you're asking for, could I at least do it in here, sitting in a comfortable chair while doing so?' she asked, gesturing both her hands behind her in the direction of the chairs. Quinn laughed at this. Man, it didn't take much to make that boy laugh, and seeing him cheer in a time like this - a place like this - made her smile as well. Just a tiny one of course, barely visible to anyone unless you were searching for it, yet just the tiniest spark in the corner of her eyes. And it did count considering how great of a contrast it made to her usual scowls.

'Yeah, sorry, I truly do not mean to put the whole burden of my life on top of your shoulders,' he excused himself, stepping through the door, giving her the chance to close it, though he didn't move further into the room. 'Though, considering that you never answer my questions on how _you_ are doing, it is really hard to make conversation with you unless it is about me.'

'Well, instead of speaking, we could - I don't know? - lets just see what is on the television instead, or what do you say about that?' she walked over to her chair and bent down to the coffee table in front of it, her hand extended to pick up the remote on the top. As she clicked the on/off button; nothing happened and although they were both used to it by now, their sighs harmonized in a depressing tone and the spark in her eyes shattered.

'I've got a better idea,' Quinn said, still standing by the door. 'How about you and I go for a walk at the beach?' Lana groaned in despair, but Quinn walked towards her and grabbed her wrist before she was able to decline the offer, dragging her out of the hotel room, Patrick jumping up and down behind them.

She resisted quite a lot on their way down to the beach, but as soon as they got there, the sound of the waves and the emptiness, she couldn't help but feel the relaxation of it. Quinns fingers had bee tugged around her wrist up until that moment, and when he noticed, he awkwardly let go of her.

Any other girl would probably be annoyed by how shy he was, but through the previous months she had become more distant and had a strong dislike for physical contact.

Yet, it was slightly uncomfortable scene. This boy had barely gathered enough self confidence to appear at her doorstep daily for weeks now. Yet, he never seemed to be confident enough to actually speak with her. Yes, they'd share a couple of sentences, though he'd always look away and speak lowly making it embarrassing not just to him, but to her as well.

But she somewhat enjoyed his presence. She didn't want her distance from society to turn her into a completely isolated person either. It was nice to put her mind off of Drake with the help of him. He didn't even have to say anything really, he just had to show up daily, making sure that she was still in the apartment.

As they walked across the shore, Lana wondered if Quinn had though as far as how he and Sam were going to surf if he hadn't been busy. After all, there was barely enough waves for her to hear the sound of them. But she enjoyed the water rushing in a low rumble and didn't want to interrupt it by her voice, so she stayed quiet.

They never really had a lot to talk about. Quinn had for long wanted to bring up what had happened to her after the battle. What she had been doing in the outskirts of town, where she had disappeared to after Sam burnt Drakes arm and why she had started acting like someone from a mental institution. Sam had asked personally asked him to do him the favor of getting Lana back on track. Yet, even with his old best friend putting so much faith in him, he couldn't bring himself to push information out of Lana. He wanted her to speak about her past willingly, he'd earn her trust if that was what it took. Even if it would take them months to get there.

'Are you getting enough to eat?' Quinn asked, breaking the silence. He had for long tried to come up with something to ask her to lighten up the conversation, though he did in fact care for her and there was partly worry in his eyes due to her figure which had become slimmer over the past month.

'As much as everyone else,' she stated, not complaining, though she sure as hell wasn't happy about the decreasing food supply. What made things worse was the fact that their food should've lasted longer then it was, but _someone_ had broken into the store, rating big amounts of the little that was left, and that someone was said to be Drake.

Part of her still thought - still hoped - that he cared for her. That a part of him was bothered by the thought of her slowly starving amongst the rest of the habitants of the dome, because he selfishly put himself before her and the others.

Did he even think of her in the first place? She didn't know, and she tried not to care, as Quinn rambled on in a low mumble on how bad things were getting and how he wished there was any other supplies of food that hadn't been discovered yet.

But she did care, that was the problem. She wished she could be there, next to him. But at the same time, she wished she could be there one last time, only to kill him slowly and painfully. Show him that pain wasn't anything close to enjoyable. Pain is pain, and she wanted to make him suffer the way she had for the past months.

She never did heal those slashes on the inside of her hip, and after a itching and acing infection had taken over, she had gotten through it and know they were slowly healing in the natural way, leaving pink, permanent scars. Two months earlier, she had considered it a good idea to leave them there. A constant reminder on why she left and why she wasn't returning.

Instead: it had become the constant reminder of Drake himself, and the more she tried not to think of him, the further he sunk into her mind making his face an everlasting, not to mention utterly vivid sight that popped out every time she closed her eyes.

She wished it would go away. She wished she could clear her mind of the picture of him and the voice made out of profound daggers. She wished she'd handle everything as well as he must be doing up at Coates. She wished that she was as free as him.

* * *

_Lana was there. Lying beneath his own body on the bed. They were kissing. Passionately, devotedly, erotically - if that was even possible, coming from him. His arms were wrapped around her waist as they turned around in bed, her on top of him, taking charge of the situation._

_And as soon as they repositioned, their lips were separated and her hand was on his chest, pushing him back in bed when he attempted to sit upright to seal their lips once more. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to do something, while his hands were tracing her hipbones, brushing them with a tender touch._

_His expression turned confused as hers turned cold, very much like how his own used to be. She bent, reaching across the bed to pick something up from the bedside table next to his head. The dim light in the room made it almost impossible to see, but the moonlight piercing through the gaps of the curtained windows was enough to illuminate what looked very much like the blade of a dagger in her hand._

_'Lana...' he whispered questionably, not sure about how he should react to the situation he found himself in._

_Once again she bent down, head positioned next to his, her lips brushing the tip of his ear as she whispered seductively. 'It's for your own good, Drake. Remember that.' She repositioned her head and her lips brushed his softly for a very brief second. Drake felt a tingle of familiarity to what she had just said, as if it had happened before, in some parallel universe. _

_Lana sat back up again, one leg on each side of him, pinning him down although he could easily overpower her if he wanted to. Yet, it felt as if all his energy, all his power was drained out of him and she had fed on it, easily vanquishing him._

_She cupped the knife between her hands, fingers curling around the handle of it. Her arms extended behind her head before they shot downwards in one swift, accurate movement. And not up until that very moment did realization seem to finally struck him. But it was to late as the blade dug into his chest, making drips of blood splatter onto her face, not to mention his own. But although his adrenaline was increasing, his heart rate decreasing as the last beats left in his chest vaporized and his heavy breaths were hoarse and painful and ending all because of her, he still felt the powerful rush going through him at the sight of her._

Drake sat up in a rush, finally able to move again. Here, in real life, his heartbeat had increased - during what had been one of the first nightmares of his ever to agitate him - but was now slowly slowing down to normal rate again.

The dream seemed to upset him more then it should have. Dreaming of Lana showed how much of a weakness she had become in his life. Dreaming of a scene so similar to the night the two of them had spent together showed that it had affected him. Dreaming of the same thing as he had been dreaming of every day since she left certainly didn't help any further.

The shrinks office, the room he had claimed as his own multiple weeks ago, had become not only his office, but his bedroom as well. After moving a bed into it, he could now sleep there comfortably, though every night he was being taunted by either Lanas dangerous side of the Darkness' pissed of side.

Since there no longer was a therapist at the school who would talk with Drake daily, he now tried to put his thinking cap on and figure it out the way a professional would.

_Well, obviously you miss her_ the doctor would've replied if he had made his exact thoughts and feelings into proper words. Obviously, he had never done that before, and if there was someone here to talk to him, they probably wouldn't even get as far as finding out that Drake even knew someone named Lana.

Then again, if the adults had been here, Lana wouldn't. None of this would have happened.

Not that he regretted much of it of course. What went between him and Lana was truly regrettable to many, but yet it was something about it that made him think that if he could've done things differently he wouldn't.

Other then making sure she didn't escape him, of course.

But now that done was done, he decided to let her think that she had. Give her the time to settle down in Perdido, find a house, make friends, find peace. Adapt. And then he'd erupt from the shadows, come at her from behind and bring her back here.

And she'd be his toy. Whenever he was bored and exhausted he'd come for her and make sure that she'd become the amusement that he so strongly needed, not to mention deserved. And when she was restrained of her strong will and spirit to fight back, he might even teach her how to shoot with a gun. She could be his little serial killer on a leash.

Drake was over thinking things, he knew he was, but he couldn't help but look forward to the day when he would find her and officially make her his. Best of all; he'd abuse her in the most violent of ways possible and he'd watch her slowly growing mad over time.

* * *

**Sorry about the rushed ending. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, if you did; please leave a review in the comment section bellow! It makes my day! I'll try ad update soon enough, but I can't promise anything, so don't expect to much from me... :)**


	3. Mending

**Soundtrack: We Are Broken - Paramore**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

Drake was fuming with his old, destructive rage. Everything had escalated quite quickly at Coates over the past couple of days. Caine had woken and gone back to his old self - maybe not completely, but other then the lack of energy; he was back in action - making Diana turn into the same superior, snarky, sarcastic Diana she used to be. And as they had taken control of the school once again, Drake had been sent to the Power Plant, only to get his head ransacked by some freak.

To top it all, Drake had decided to be a "loyal teammate" by bringing the so-called moof with him back to the school, so that Caine himself could have a say in what to do with her. Unfortunately, Caine decided that they could have a great use of her, and despite the fact that Drake basically owned the stupid girl, Diana got to take care of her, pleasing neither of them.

But even with an angry Diana who now had to watch over the young girl, Drake had a feeling that Diana could amuse herself with the girl, manipulating her into entering his head once again. Great, just... _great_...

Drake could only be thankful that the dream he had been caught in was one of his basic old ones. One where he tortured Caine and Sam and Diana in the most horrid ways possible. Hopefully that would unintentionally put her on a leash.

She definitely wouldn't have felt as threatened by him if she had witnessed a dream where he was being taunted by that disturbingly dark power inside the mine shaft. Or even worse; a half naked, small girl who killed him in bed without him so much as fighting back.

Pathetic, that is what he was. He knew it deep down, and it was driving him mad. The memories of some supernatural power in a goddamn cave, and a _girl_ was driving him _mad_!

_Come to me..._

He was sure as hell not coming to that nasty little monster! It didn't matter how great his whip hand was; he had no plans of having his brain stung by a thousand knives all over again, no matter how great of a weapon he would be given in return.

Unfortunately; Caines mysterious intentions to take charge once and for all, gave Drake the fierce dread that he might in fact have to return to their common mistreating tormentor.

* * *

Once again, Lana found herself up at Clifftop, leaned back in a comfortable armchair with a book in hand. After an abrupt run earlier in the morning, she had spent all afternoon reading and although she had over the past couple of weeks gotten used to the reading; she was tiering from only having her eyes sliding over a couple of symbols scribbled down on a piece of paper.

Quinn hadn't come over today. He said told her the day before that he was off to a early shift on picking cantaloupes, and in the afternoon he was going to something he referred to as the McClub. Apparently, Albert had started a club to cheer everyone up. Quinn had invited her, stating that being cheered up was something she needed, but she didn't want to be part of such a big crowd.

She had personally been invited by Albert herself, when she went for a run and bumped into an injured Orc. Albert had spoke to her about the future of all things. It was quite distinct, seeing a boy in his early teens seemingly having everything figured out. Lana couldn't help the temptation of helping him, even if she had some hidden intentions as her main fuel for doing so.

So today Albert invited her over to the club so they could discuss how to turn gold into a source of payment. She had been planning on going, the only problem was that the more time that passed; the more she regretted saying yes to going.

It would be a lot of people there. Loud music, dancing teenagers, pleasant faces. She wasn't sure if she'd handle it, especially if the Darkness gave her another breakdown... Maybe she should just ditch? Maybe she should just come right before the club closed, and speak with Albert when the place had quieted down and emptied out?

That surely seemed like the better version of it, but she had said she would be there. And knowing Albert, he was a busy man, and in close future he would become even busier. She didn't want to keep him up late, especially considering the fact that he was working so hard to establish and maintain a peaceful way of getting by in this dome.

Lana read another two chapters in the book until she heard the blasting beats of party music, which could only mean that the club was opened for the night. She sighed, reading out her page, before closing the book and getting up. Patrick looked up expectantly and Lana filled his bowl with dog food, trying to ignore her rumbling stomach at the sight of her dog eating the food energetically.

'I'll be back in a little while, boy,' Lana said, despite Patrick being too caught up with his food to even notice her departure. She sighed, and exited the hotel room door, closing it behind her. As soon as she left her room, she felt unsafe, and the knowledge of Patrick being separated from her on the other side of the door, surely didn't help her much.

She walked halfheartedly towards the elevator, taking it down towards the first floor where she exited the hotel, exposed to the world without either Quinn nor Patrick at her side to steady her. She inhaled heavily, not to mention quite dramatically despite the fact that she was truly terrified. There hadn't been a day when she walked around by herself other then the day she went to Coates and...

Her head shook from side to side as she tried to rid herself of the memories. _Stop... _She thought to herself. _Don't think about it. Not know of all times._

Lana walked down the street, finding her way to the club quite easily. Over the past three months she had spent in the town - more precisely right outside of the town, anyways - she had at least gotten to know the streets slightly easier, making it possible for her to walk through the town without getting lost.

With every step she took, the music increased and she felt her muscles tense slightly at the sight of all the kids standing in a line outside of the previous McDonalds shop which had now turned into the so-called McClub. Albert was standing by the door, a huge smile plastered onto his face as the kids handed him what looked a lot like toilet paper and batteries before entering.

'What are you doing?' Lana asked, clearing her voice as she was within a seven feet distance of him and she was sure that he could hear her over the loud music.

'Hey Lana,' he greeted, the smile still there beside her accusing tone. 'Since that gold hasn't been turned in yet, I thought that they could pay in some other way, you know? Besides, people are waisting these resources like they are nothing but toys. I don't know about you, but I sure as hell would like something to wipe my ass with when going to the bathroom?'

Lana couldn't help but roll her eyes at the comment. She found it being quite unnecessary of him to be so straight forward, but at least she got the point.

'Well, the club is still open, so I'm not ready to speak business just yet,' Albert stated as he received another roll of toilet paper and sent another kid into the club. 'Just go in, and I'll be ready in just about half an hour or so!'

Hesitantly she nodded her head, before she realized that she obviously hadn't brought anything with her to the club, nonetheless something she could use to get herself in. Awkwardly she stared at her empty hands as if she expected them to be filled with batteries she could hand over to the young businessman.

'Oh, don't worry about it,' Albert replied to her unasked question as if he had just read her mind. That foolish grin of his was still striking his futures and she found his confident and cheerful attitude annoying in comparison with the circumstances. It reminded her of Caine which reminded her of - 'You're helping me with getting the economy started, it is only just fair that you get in for free!'

She tried to return a smile as she passed by him, entering the club. Passing through the door, she suddenly noticed how isolated she truly had been for the past months and how much she was standing out compared to the majority of the teenagers. The only other person among the crowd who did not seem to be enjoying herself must have been the freak she recalled as Dekka, who sat in a corner discreetly staring at one of the other people who were dancing.

Lana walked around, bouncing slightly on the tip of her toes as she did so, as she awkwardly attempted to dance. She didn't really get into it, but it felt better being here then to gloom at the wall in her room as she wished that her mind would be cleared of all horror. It was when her mind was completely occupied in thoughts that she bumped into a tall, solid figure and looked up only to greet a set of warm and welcoming eyes.

'Hey Quinn.' she greeted, trying to be as responsive as he always was when they were around each other. Lana always found it slightly uncomfortable; being around another boy, after what happened between her and - She once again shook her head frantically, trying to shut the memories out. Things were better this way... Easier. Everything she had gone through, it was over, as long as she shut it out of her mind.

* * *

**Really sucky ending, I know, but I tried really hard to make it better and it just... didn't work, I guess? **

**Anyways, this is when Lana and Quinns encounter at McClub occurs. Since they've already gotten to know each other it is obviously a bit different, though I didn't think it would be big enough of a difference for me to write it into a fanfiction chapter myself. So if you don't remember the scene, you could just read through it in hunger, so that your mind is freshened up for the next chapter!**

**I just have to tell you guys that last week I made an Instagram account and I am so proud of myself for being "in the game" amongst all the other mainstream people at my school. I am called TheDendrologist, and I only take pics of trees, so if you are interested in that, then follow me! :D**

**And a huge thank you to Just Anny, WhipHand's Pet (x2) and Kyle 3698 for you reviews. They are much appreciated, so you are all free to comment yout opinion on the story/chapter and the chapters that are soon to come! :)**


	4. Agitated

**Soundtrack: Sunrise - Our Last Night**

**So, I'm really sorry that I haven't updated in so long, but I've been lazy and busy and lazy again and I've gotten so hooked on the TV series skins and fanfictions written for LOTF, so I've been occupied with that. Speaking of LOTF, I wanted to inform you guys that I'm going to write a fanfiction for the book, with the super mainstream "girl on the island" plotline, so if you love the classic as much as I do, stay tuned for the story!**

**As for my other fanfictions; I've gotten more inspiration for Obsession as well as this one, so I'm hoping that they'll both be actively updated through out the summer vacation, though I cannot promise anything. **

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

Lana tossed in bed eagerly as if that would decrease the feeling of the hands tightening their grip around her brain. In the moment of pain though; it did seem like the fingernails digging into her mind where slowly retreating to the hell they came from.

She was drawn back into reality by the sound of soft knocking on her door. She mumbled the most tiering 'come in' and was soon greeted by the presence of her awkwardly cheerful companion. Quinn entered the room with ease and shut the door quietly behind him, respecting the fact that she had just woken up, though he did turn on the light which made her wince.

'Jesus, Quinn!' she muttered as she cringed between the sheets, looking quite hilarious by the attempt of hiding from the daylight. 'What the hell are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here before hours!'

'Well...' Quinn started, grinning sheepishly in the process of crossing the room and exposing a plate from behind his back. 'I bear gifts.'

Lana sat up in bed, not at the mention of gifts, but at the strong, not to mention _delicious_ smell of the substance covering the plate. For a moment, Lana was frozen in place, just staring from the plate in Quinns hand, to Quinn and back again.

'Quinn... Is that... _fish_?' she asked slowly, as if she couldn't believe what was in front of her. As if she was scared that by the mention of the word, it might poof at any moment, or she'd wake up and it would be a dream. It wouldn't be the first time someone had had a dream of the long lost food, though Lanas own mind was usually occupied by nightmares that were more of a relief when she would awaken.

'It's fried fish, actually,' he said with the simplest shrug, a genuine smile on his face. 'Come, lets eat and I'll tell you all about it.'

Lana got out of bed, not remembering that she was only dressed in a big, sweat stained t-shirt before her body was already exposed. Quinn flushed a deep shade of red and looked away deliberately. Unlike him, Lana wasn't even bothered by all the skin she was showing, more distracted by how her legs seemed to belong to an anorexic by now.

She sat down by the coffetable opposite of Quinn and he placed the plate between the two of them. The portion of food was small, there was no denying that, but it was fresh, and nutrient, very unlike a lot of what she'd been eating lately.

They ate in silence, only the sound of their soft chewing and soft moans of joy as they enjoyed the meal. Only when they were about halfway through the meal and Quinn seemed beyond anxious about the quiet, did he bother speaking up.

'You remember what you spoke of yesterday? About how it felt as if something had gotten its hook in you?'

'You think fish can stop the torture?' Lana asked, barely taking her eyes off of the food to race her eyebrows at him. Her thoughts were moving slowly as her sleep deprived mind tried to figure out what was going on in his own.

'No, but you know, I constantly thought about that metaphor, you know. And then I woke earlier today, because I was so unbelievably hungry, and the hunger has kept me up ever since. And then as I thought about last night, I suddenly remembered what you said to me, about a hook. About fishing.' he pressed, filling in any blank spots that might have found their way into her head. 'And I just felt this utter longing to check if the house I lived in had any kind of fishing gear.'

'Mhm.' Lana muttered distantly, her face expressing a sad frown as she tore off a small piece of fish and fed it to herself.

'And there was this whole set of fishing equipment. So then I went to the marina to check if there was any fuel in any of the boats, and there was! So I decided to try to fish.' he said, looking quite proud about the fact that he was the one who came up with the idea, yet quite humble about it as if he didn't want to make to big of a deal out of himself.

'At least you caught something,' Lana muttered, wondering how low he set his goals if this small fish was good enough with him.

'Well, I actually caught three big fish,' Quinn continued, seeming slightly flustered by her comment. 'I went to Albert and we made a deal that I'll go with a whole lot of other teens to fish every morning. Some other kids rinsed and cooked the fish and then I had it served to the prees. Albert said that since I was the one who went to all the trouble of fishing that this could be my payment.'

He gestured at the plate and Lana found herself staring in disbelief at him. 'We are all starving to death... And you get your food amount increased enough to fill your stomach, yet you decide to share it. Why?'

'We're friends, aren't we?' Quinn shrugged, that sheepish grin of his still plastered onto his features.

'Right...' Lana mumbled. It wasn't as if she could actually name another human in this godforsaken dome who was actually closer to her then Quinn. Then again, she was quite sure that the definition of friendship went a bit deeper then the circumstances they were caught between, though Quinn did in fact show effort in trying to strengthen whatever bond there might be between the two of them.

The meal continued in that clotting silence, something which she at first enjoyed. it gave her time to ponder on how to act when she'd come to the mineshaft. How to operate to cause the most possible damage. She should have felt nervous, yet there was only excitement building up from within her as she was looking more and more forward for the evening that just couldn't come quickly enough.

In the end, when they had both eaten, they went to wash their hands since neither of them had had the decency to eat with cutlery. Quinn let Patrick lick the plate clean, before Lana fed him proper dog food. It was still quite early in the morning, yet Lana wasn't the one for small talk, so Quinn left soon enough.

'I'll see yah tonight then.' Quinn said as he was standing by the door on his way out.

'Whats tonight?' Lana asked, thrown off guard by the comment.

'Yeah, Albert invited me along to get the gold from that deserted cabin. He said he'd need help with carrying.' He said self-consciously, not mentioning the part about the need of someone with strong arms because he didn't want to seem self absorbed.

Lana just stood there, staring through him in the most uncomfortable way. When Quinn had reached the point of blushing wildly again, he mumbled a shy 'later' and took off. Minutes passed before she was shaken out of her thoughts, only due to the help of the malevolent voice echoing inside her head.

_Come to me..._

'Oh, I'm coming,' she muttered as she closed the door. 'And I'm bringing company.'

* * *

Drake was glad to be driving. Caine had placed him in the SUV with a couple of the other kids who were good with guns. The psychopath had given himself the authority to drive them there, and no one were stupid enough to deny.

He was glad that Caine was in the other car alongside all the other aggravating fools.

Alike Panda, Drakes only fist clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white in the process, his own type of nervousness surging through him.

He shouldn't be nervous, he knew that. The reason Caine had recruited him was because he was never nervous. His mind went blank in a moment of anger as he reminded himself that he didn't care about Caines priorities. Then again, there were these type of rebellious type of thoughts that made him nervous.

Caine had started sensing Drakes disobeying mood. Diana had most likely helped him in the progress of figuring it out, since Drake doubted that Caine was observant enough in his lost state of mind to figure it out on his own.

For a while he even thought that the Darkness had attempted to turn Caine against him, but he had convinced himself that it was just his own paranoia speaking. It had always been a conflict to know what the monster was considering doing due to its facelessness, though Drake had in the end convinced himself that when it came to choosing between Caine and Drake, it would choose him.

The thoughts seemed to relieve him the slightest, though he was still tense. And it was quite impossible to calm down when he was stuck in a car with four other passengers who seemed to speak every thought out loud.

'Where are we going?'

'What is wrong with Caine?'

'I thought he was dead or something.'

'Are we gonna get food?'

'God, I'm so hungry!'

'Are we gonna fight Sam?'

'But this isn't the road to Perdido Beach...'

'What is this talk about the gaia something?'

'I heard-'

'Shut the fuck up before I blow your heads out!' This, this was from Drake. Hadn't it been for his intimidating aura and the fact that he was driving the car, then the other Coates kids wouldn't have noticed his presence. He preferred being left alone with only the intimidating air around him keeping people on track.

Drake wasn't in the mood for this. All remnants of anxiety was now replaced with the fury that usually kept him going. He could now spot the Power Plant off in the distance and the cars slow speed gradually closed off the few hundred meters that were left.

He got out of the car, his machine gun slung over his shoulder, his automatic pistol fully loaded in his left hand and his whip hand fully uncoiled. With rage, shooting skills and radioactive monster to lead his way, he stalked off towards the entrance of the power plant, ready to assassinate.

* * *

**A big thank you to Kyle3698 and Just Anny for your lovely reviews! They are always appreciated, so leave a comment if you have any thoughts on the story!**

**Though I must say that I can't do anything about the chapters being so alike the original story at the moment. ****It'll take another couple of chapters before the story will get more exciting and original and so on, so just hold on and wait for that :)**


	5. Misery

**Soundtrack: Panic Switch - Silversun Pickups**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

Sweat drops trickled down the side of Drakes forehead.

Fucking Howard had given away his place of hiding behind Sams burnt hole in the wall at the power plant. Caine was going to kill him for pulling the trigger before Jack gave him the signal. The sociopath had already threatened him quite a lot ever since he got back to normal - although the definition of that phrase was exposed to quite different circumstances at the moment - and he didn't feel like being thrown into any more walls at the moment.

The lack of food and water was getting to him for real now and the only thing making him still able to do his job was thanks to the adrenaline pumping along his veins at the sound of yet another gunshot coming from his machine gun.

He fired again in the direction of Dekka, and a wheel came flying at him bringing him to the ground with unbelievable force. The air was knocked out of his lunges and he coughed painfully as he got back onto his feet.

Through the hole, he could see Edilio and Sam emerging from an SUV, running towards Dekka to aid her needs and he knew that the time was closing in. He hoped for his own sake that Jack had gotten the fuel rod ready and that the other three Coates kids where running off already; because Orcs clenched fist appeared in his vision, his stony knuckles closing the distance with Drakes face missing by mere inches and Drake could do nothing but to fire blindly and run.

* * *

Lana was changing. In and out of her own body, hardly able to processed any of what was happening and or what had happened during the past 12 hours. She had briefly attempted to fall asleep only to be woken by the Darkness and not before long, the rest of her restless night had been spent in a car with Albert, Cookie and Quinn.

Quinn.

She hadn't wanted him to come. It would only make it harder for her to get to the mineshaft without being followed, yet she had somehow managed to fool both him and Albert, only bringing Cookie along simply because he was as loyal - and dumb - as a dog.

Wasn't Quinn loyal, though? He had always been nice to her, and a part of her thought that if she had commanded him to wait for her at the top of the mineshaft, he would. Yet she kept asking herself wether he would do so because he trusted her when it came to making her own decisions, or because he was still dreading the thought of being hurt.

She shook the thought out of her head. It wasn't the first time she had been having second thoughts about Quinn. Questioning his loyalty, his trust, his supposed bravery. She hated herself for thinking that way. He had been nothing but a friend to her since day one. A shoulder to cry on if she needed, though she had never given in to that temptation.

Not in front of him, anyways.

But what would he do, when he realized that the girl he had been spending his previous three months on befriending was not only anxiously paranoid and isolated from society, but straight out unstable with a commanding voice filling her head at all costs, torturing her despite her will to fight back.

She closed her eyes, letting the stabbing knives against her brain ease the slightest as she opened to the pain. The flickering image of poisonous hands reached out to her now, the same way they did whenever she closed her eyes to greet the chilling darkness that surrounded The Darkness.

He wouldn't stick with her then, would he? He'd think she was schizophrenic, that's what he would think. And would he be as interested in staying by her side then?

Would Cookie?

She shook her head again, but the thoughts clung to her as if they were carved into the brain tissue of her Limbic System. The only ones that could possibly stick to her when she turned completely insane would be those who were harmed as badly as she was and that still stayed to fight.

Drake.

The only one who could possibly more off track then herself. He seemed willing to stick with her, yet maybe not. What had been going on between the two of them had lasted only a week. It had been three months since they saw each other last. What was taking him so long? She couldn't possibly mean anything to him anymore. She hadn't known him before the FAYZ, met him mere hours before he kissed her for the first time.

For all she knew, he could be off with another girl, a Coates girl who had been sent there due to her sadistic tendencies. For all she knew, it might be his seventh girl since her. For all she knew, he wasn't just an insane sadist, but a very experienced player. He wouldn't be coming for her.

And she should be feeling relief, but it was impossible when his face kept appearing inside her head whenever her thoughts faltered. When she could almost feel his touch as she lied in bed by herself. When she fantasized about him being on the other side of the hotel door everyday Quinn came knocking at it.

She hated herself for thinking like this. It made her feel weak, drained, almost dead inside. There was enough to deal with, just having the Darkness keeping her mind held hostage. Daydreaming about a psychopath wasn't really an issue she felt like adding to the list of things she needed to rearrange in her life.

Stubbornly, she continued down the mineshaft, glaring daggers at the emptiness before her.

'Is this what you want?!' she yelled into the void, stopping in her tracks. Her voice echoed, slowly decreasing for each repeat, yet there was no reply. 'For me to loose my sanity, my friends, my sense of rationality! For me to spend my life obsessing over a psychopath who will never be civilized enough, _sane_ enough to even treat me like a proper human being?'

_Come to me..._

She continued walking.

* * *

_I'll take care of Sam_.

That's what he had told Caine. That's what he'd convinced himself of. He'd take care of Sam, and then he'd come for Caine. He'd take the sociopath down, once and for all, and then... Then he'd be the only one left in control.

He'd show them, he'd show them all that he didn't need a power to take down either of the powerful twins. He didn't need a power to take control of the town. He didn't need a power to be the one everyone feared in the end.

Sam had feared his psychotic mind enough to finally give in. Out of fear that Drake would actually let everyone inside of the dome die from radiation, he had given himself up for Drake to torment. It was a good choice. Drake didn't doubt that he was sick, yet he still didn't really want to die. Especially at the hands of Sam, who had attempted to burn off his arm, causing utter humiliation and misery.

No, this was definitely much better.

His unsettling laugh harmonized with the blaring gunshots of his pistol, Sams agonizing shrieks and the roaring siren in an orchestra of hysteria. It was a show of madness and Drake couldn't possibly enjoy it more. Not until...

'Hey, Drake,' Brianna said. 'I heard about your idea for cutting me up with wire. Clever.'

Sam was still on the ground, sobbing at the pain of his blown flesh, bullets and blood covering his every limb. Only a foot away from the deeply damaged body, laid Drakes pistol, held in the dead grip of what used to be Drakes right arm.

He was about to collapse on the ground as well, screaming out in pain and terror, but no. Instead he let go of the remote, he turned, and he ran.

* * *

Lana closed her eyes. Tried to shut the nightmares out of her head. But they weren't nightmares; they were memories. The sight of Edilios body collapsing before her was set on replay. She drew her legs up to her chest and rested her back against the solid stones of the shaft.

_Come to me..._

'But I'm already here.' she mumbled in a soft whisper, seeing the green light of her master through her watery eyes. The monster only laughed hurriedly at her and replied with the trademark voice that'd haunt her forever.

_Hungry in the dark..._

She shuddered.

* * *

Drake climbed the hill in a hurry and stumbled across the road in the direction of where the mutilated Escalade was parked. Caine alongside Diana and Jack had all been waiting for him there for the past minutes. Diana was the one to notice his presence closing in, and she was just about to send him a snarky comment, when her eyes fell to something in his hand. Or at least where his hand was supposed to be.

'What the hell happened to you?' Diana asked, making both Jack and Caine turn their attention towards the retreating psychopath.

The two other boys noticed as well and Jack couldn't help but gasp at the sight of Drakes bloody elbow. Even Caine was having a hard time keeping his face straight when Drake closed the gap between him and his allies and they saw that his arm had been chopped off just above the shoulder.

He didn't answer, only let out one single, human sob, before picking himself together and getting into the car.

'So much for taking care of Sam,' Diana mumbled when everyone were seated and they had driven off in the direction of the mineshaft.

'I did take care of him,' Drake snapped back at her. He looked paler then usual, blood staining the right side of his t-shirt now. 'I shot him to the bone. Many times. He's done for.'

'Then how did you get all...?' Diana asked, gesturing with her hand at the bloody mess that was left of Drakes arm. It looked like a rag doll, that had been attached to the back of the mutilated Escalade the day it was made, and he'd been dragged around it ever since whenever someone drove it.

'Brianna.' Drake choked on the name, his voice a low and wiggly mutter. No one were sure if it was because of the pain of the open wound, the shock of the sudden turn of events, or the rapid rush of fury that seemed to spread across him when he realized that he had just lost a limb. No one bothered asking.

Hadn't it been for Drakes sky high superiority and distraction, he might have bothered showing the slightest sign of appreciation towards Caine as he tore off a strip off his shirt and wrapped it around the still bleeding limb. Caine couldn't care less about Drake, but he knew that the psychopath was one of a kind in his own twisted, demented way, and he wouldn't let that go to waste. Not until Drake decided to go up against him.

Drake turned his head to take a look at what was left of his arm for only a second and he felt ashamed by the pain surging through him, the sudden urge to cry rushing through his head. It had been his right arm, the same one he had always used when he was shooting with a gun, the same one that had been roasted three months earlier by Sam, the same one that Diana was going to saw off, the same one that Lana healed for him.

That time he had cried. Even as Lana healed him, he had cried because the pain was unbearable and even beneath her cool, relaxing touch, he felt himself tense up because the pain was still there. Even as she healed an inch of skin and 5 percent, 10 percent of the pain subsided; it was still there, and it was killing him.

This time he wasn't going to cry, though. This time it was manageable, he had suffered way worse before. He'd live. Yet the whole atmosphere was sucked down into a pit in hell as they drove off in the direction of the mineshaft.

'Lana'll heal it for you, Drake.' Caine stated almost reassuringly, as if Drake had been saying his thoughts out loud.

He looked up, interested now. Not just because he'd see Lana again, or that he might get his hand back. This was the first time any of them had mentioned her in front of him over the past three months. The few people that knew of his short interference with her were stupid, yes, yet their idiocy failed them when it came to wether or not they should bring the topic of the girl up.

Caine had said it, of course. The person who could hold him back with his stupid powers.

The pain surging through him from his lost limb, blood loss and the mention of her name was all to much, and the only reply he was able to muster was the slightest stiff nod as they continued on their way to the mineshaft to feed the Gaiaphage.

* * *

**I'm sorry that this was such a hurried chapter, but I'm tired of basically writing the same as what is said in the book and I kind of just want to skip to my own part, which if I remember correctly starts off in the next chapter, maybe in two. Not sure.**

**Anyhow, thanks to Kei-Kat and IsaBELLa for reviewing!**

**In the next chapter, Lana and Drake will be reunited again. I'll try and update right away, so make sure to come with a motivating review as well for me to go through with it! ;)**


	6. Unraveling

**Soundtrack: Seven Nation Army - White Strings**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

They were there. They were finally there, and they were gonna feed the monster down in the cave. Drake was built up of utter and absolute fury at the sight of a hesitating Caine. Fucking idiot couldn't back out now! Didn't Caine have a single backbone? Didn't he have a single sense of knowledge inside of that self consumed mind of his?

He was in more pain now. His arm had lessened to a stinging numbness after enough blood had leaked for him not to be able to move his shoulder at all. Yet as soon as he was able to slow his heart rate even only by a couple of beats, was able to focus on something other then the pain, push it aside, he was attacked by Dekka, only resulting in him limping.

Worse then the pain was the thought of how goddamn vulnerable he must've looked with his bloody, torn shirt, his mangled arm, and his limping frame, moving forward in unsteady, slow movements.

'Caine... _Don't_,' Diana said, her voice pleading now. And besides her attempt at staying strong, carrying her well known confidence as armor, it was slowly shattering as Caine took another step toward the cave. But Dianas voice seemed to pull him back to sanity if only the slightest, and soon, he stopped dead in his tracks.

'Do it, Caine. _Do it_!' Drake hissed at him, flicking the safety off of his gun.

'Shut up, you psychopath!' Diana shouted in pure rage, the anger she for so lang had been bottling up, finally escaping, filing into the words she was now finally unraveling before Drake. 'I'm not gonna die just because you can't control your pathetic hormones! Ever since she left you, you've lost all sense that ever was left in your fucked up mind!'

Drake didn't let her continue any further. Before anyone was able to react, he spun on his heel, bringing his clenched fist upwards connecting with her jaw. His left hand was far from as fierce and accurate as his right one, yet his swift punch was one that most people would be envious of. And the gun he held in hand most definitely wasn't a misfortune when it came to the damage of the blow.

Before the signals of pain broke through the shock and reached her brain, Drake was onto her in one rapid movement sending her staggering backwards from the impact of him on top of her. He threw himself onto her like a wild animal, bringing both of them to the ground. They fell as one off the edge of the platform they were standing on and landed ruffly on the ground multiple yards beneath of where Caine was standing frozen to the ground, eyes wide and jaw hanging loose in an air of astonishment.

Drakes fall was cushioned thanks to the body beneath his own.

Diana on the other hand was slashed across her narrow back from the sharp stones, her head hitting the jutting point of one of the rocks in such a swift movement it knocked her out immediately. Drake sitting on top of her with one leg on each side of her waist, his left hand pinning her shoulder to the ground - not that there was any need to, she had already fainted from the stone to her skull. His right hand was holding his loaded semi-automatic pistol pointed at her head.

His eyes were electrifying. Not a single bit of hesitance in them, other then the remorse that he had to do this now. He would've waited the few hours it would take for her to wake up again - if she ever would wake up - and then torture her slowly until she died from blood loss. Sadly, Caine was at his back and if he did not pull the trigger now, he would be killed.

But at the moment he pulled the trigger, he felt himself unable to do so as he was frown backwards taking two summersaults and crashing into Jack, who kept yelling about the fuel rod which had cracked, yet left completely forgotten in the middle of this duel.

Both of them landing in a heap on the ground, meters away from Caine. Too far away form Caine, yet not far enough away for him to use his gun.

The gun shots weren't as accurate as his stuck up mind had imagined. His arm was shaking out of exhaustion, pain and adrenaline. His eyes were having trouble focusing clearly on his previous ally, standing with his arms raised, shamefully close and he knew that the radiation was also to blame for his current condition.

Without being in his right mind, his gun had been blasted out of his hand, leaving his palm unnaturally warm. When Sam erupted from behind a boulder, all he could do was stare in shock and awe at how the boy had gotten back.

Stiff and damaged badly, he watched as Caine pushed Sam and Quinn away with his invisible forces, before turning his full attention back at Drake.

'Caine,' he started, he wanted to sound warning, yet it came out more pleading then anyone could've expected. 'you don't want to do this!'

_Hungry in the dark..._

And Caine must have heard it as well, because he mumbled the words 'I am no ones slave, you monster! This will be the last time I obey you.' and with that, the fuel rod was thrown in his direction. A spear thrown so precisely it would hit him straight through his chest, killing him instantly.

Drake wasn't able to run since he was held in place by Caines telekinetic power, just like every time he disobeyed. Just like the time they returned to Coates, and that time when Lana came after him. Would she this time as well? He couldn't see her anywhere. He was able to turn enough to one side so that the fuel rod hit his shoulder instead, but the impact sent both of them flying backwards into the cave.

He had landed onto his back once again and he was struggling with moving when he felt himself being sucked out of the cave again. This time, loose rocks, support beams and what looked like another body was pulled out with him.

As he was dragged out my the invisible force, he struggled and said just about every swear word he had ever learnt. But as soon as he had exited the cave he was still swaying midair, Caine holding him with his power, raising his hands backward. Drakes looked at him expectantly. And for a brief second, the eyes of the previous allies locked. Caine had a murderous glare in his eyes, one that used to be bottled up due to his charismatic attitude.

Drake was weakening. He was badly hurt and he could feel the last of his energy being sucked out of himself due to the lack of sleep and food through the previous day, but a part of him slowly realized that the radiation was devouring his insides then and there, eating him alive.

Through that second they shared eye contact, he made sure that all the energy he had restored was now spent on the most seductive sharkgrin he had given. With blood running down one side of his head, his hair even more shaggy and messy then usual, clothes covered with dirt and holes, his arms covered with slashes and scraps, he truly was a frightening sight with his ecstatic eyes and white canine teeth. _Surely this will taunt him in his sleep... _Drake thought to himself.

Even with his drained strength, his final expression gave him strength enough not to quiver as Caine returned a smirk. He felt a pit gathering in is stomach as Caines hands shot forwards and for his final time; Drake tumbled backwards into the cave, stones, metal, wood following tag behind him.

He screamed in the process, he couldn't help it. And he hated himself for doing so. Because this was what they'd remember him by. Not by his sadistic tendency that would by traumatizing to some. Not by how he was always the willing one. The one who did everything without hesitance.

No, he'd be remembered by how weak he was in his last moment.

The previous fall of his had hurt, yet this one was unbearable. He landed on his side, rolling down the steep hill of the mineshaft multiple rounds before he finally slowed down. And when he did slow down, a stone rolled down from behind and hit him in the back of his skull. Luckily not hard enough to knock hi out, yet enough to make him utterly dizzy. If it hadn't been for the fact that they hadn't had anything to eat at the Power Plant, he would've puked.

The fuel rod, he remembered. And for the first time, he was suddenly terrified. Because there hadn't been a spear thrown at him. Tons of steel and lead and uranium.

He wasn't able to get onto his feet, though he did drag himself across the ground. But not back up were Caine was. Downwards. That was were he was going. Down into the darkness to reunite with the Darkness.

* * *

Lana wasn't fully able to process her circumstances. She was still having a hard time figuring out the exact moment the Darkness had taken its full possession of her. When she had lost her sanity. When she had lost her control. When she lost her ability to think clearly, function sufficiently.

But even with every sense and emotion under control by a dark force that was not her own, she was still able to acknowledge the presence of the weak frame coming closer, crawling - no, _dragging_ \- themselves across the ground, shoulders hunched over, head lowered. Lana could tell that it was a boy - a suffering boy - from the sound of his ragged breath, and somehow she was able to tell who it was by the way he swore almost casually, with his malevolence still filling every word.

It wasn't until he was only within reach that she pulled herself together and admitted to herself that it could be no one but him. Yet she longed for proof, but before she was able to get the confirmation, his left arm trembled and he crumbled to the ground, lying there like a rag doll tossed away after many years of rough treatment.

His slender form shivered from the impact of his body against the stones of the shaft, the coldness of the darkness. She hadn't caught him, simply watched as he fell to the ground. Had he expected anything else? How could he?

After everything he had done to Sam, to those defenseless prees, to those innocently mutated Coates kids, to _her_. Yet she had healed him once before. She had known what he was capable of then, the memories of the damage he could create even fresher in her mind, when the relationship between the two of them was nothing but a name connected to a face.

Yet she had healed him.

So why not now?

She sighed.

What did she have to loose anyways?

She lowered herself until her knees where bent almost painfully, wiggling slightly as she kept her balance by bouncing lightly on her toeballs. Her head was hunched forward to get a better look at his wounds.

His left hand reached out to her, his blood soaked fingers cupping her cheek in such a soft manner it was impossible to believe anyone could possibly be capable of it, nonetheless _him_. But she just denied his touch my slapping his hand away with her own, making a shooing sound as if he was only a cat who had ruined the curtains.

The gentle expression of his face faded almost immediately, and his gaze grew cold and intimidating. But Lana had the upper hand and they both knew it, so he leant back on the compact ground, ignoring the stinging pain of the sharp rocks against the back of his skull and the uranium surging through his veins in waves of magnifying shivers.

It wasn't until then that he noticed the pain in his elbow was gone. After the first hour, it had become an unbearable numbness, and at first he thought it had reached the point where his arm was completely paralyzed by the blood loss, before he realized that Lana was healing him.

Lana, who had been through nothing less then misery, abused by him whenever he needed the amusement of tormenting the one person that had possessed his true affections.

For the first time in, well, _ever_, he felt the slightest bit of... what? Regret? Guilt? Remorse? He would've laughed, hadn't it been for the uranium sucking the power out of him. She was healing that as well. In the process of fixing up his arm, she was sucking part of the venom out of his body, decreasing the chance of any more damage occurring to his already disheveled body.

In a sudden motion, she let go of his elbow and stood.

His eyes met hers as their size increased dramatically and for a brief second he could see the shock flowing through her, before she bottled it up, isolating it beneath layers upon layers of nothing. She shook her head slowly, constantly, insistingly, as if she was silently arguing with her mind, denying her own thoughts from surfacing.

'Goodbye Drake.' she said in a low whisper before she stalked off in the direction of the exit.

He got up, a sudden rush of energy developing on the little spark of adrenaline that she ignite to form whenever she was around him. His right arm reached out, before he mentally slapped himself because he no longer had a right hand. That was when he was caught off guard by the tail of a red python slithering around her waist. In the moment, he didn't bother noticing his newly replaced arm, only the fact that they were mere inches apart, facing each other, his "hand" on her hip, her breath hot on his lips.

'Goodbye.' he muttered, yet not letting go of her. His voice was hoarse though he didn't bother thinking about it as he leant down towards her. She was frozen in track at first, standing completely still with her eyes wide open, before she gave away to the overwhelming familiarity of his somewhat welcoming lips.

The kiss was calm and passionate, much like the one they had shared before the battle of Perdido Beach and as it lasted, neither could help but expose their true emotions if only for a second, smiles forming on each others lips as they were still pressed against each other.

Drake hadn't actually noticed quite how close she had gotten up until the moment she pulled away. Her hands were both behind his neck, her fingers casually brushing up and down in a calming fashion, gradually depriving him of the uranium which was slowly ceasing into his brain.

She smiled halfheartedly before she pulled away completely, both missing the others chilling heat, yet neither attempted stopping her from retreating in the direction of the closed exit of the cave.

* * *

Drake was still awestruck by having seen her again. After all this time, there she was; touching him, healing him, _kissing_ him, as if nothing had happened. As if they were just some other teenagers who were making out with their high school love.

It wasn't that simple.

She'd left him, denying the slightest affection towards him as if it didn't matter that she was retreating from the cave again and he wasn't coming along.

Caines damage on the entrance would make it impossible to get out, yet he didn't doubt that she'd manage it, and that they wouldn't see each other for a long time.

_Come to me..._

He took a deep breath.

_Come to me..._

'I'm coming, you sick monster. I'm coming for you.'

* * *

**Thanks to Kyle3698, Just Annie, AncientSTORM, Kei-Kat and Rhya for your wonderful reviews, you all made me so incredibly happy. Keep up with the sweet commenting and I'll work on updating quicker besides returning to school in a week...**

**And I realized that I have some extreme gone fans here that knows every word of the gone series by heart *cough* Just Devil *cough*, so I'm afraid that if you're like her you're getting your hopes up about the story being very different and you maybe just might be satisfied with the twelfth chapter :P **

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed and PLEEEEEASE leave a review! If you've got an account I'll send you a long and nice reply :3**


	7. Crippled

**Soundtrack: What Will Become Of Us - Passenger**

**(Chose this song for the chapter four months ago, yet I didn't realize up until two days ago that they actually mention gasoline and burning and stuff. Then again, I didn't analyze the song or anything, so for all I know, they're just using metaphores to describe a relationship...:P)**

**Be prepared for what I hope will be a sad chapter! ;)**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

Lana wrenched on the ground, splattering the last intents of her stomach onto the ground before her. She pushed herself up by her arms, but they kept shaking uncontrollably. Losing her balance completely, she fell onto her bum and stayed in a sitting position on top of a big boulder.

From where she was sitting on the rock, over the mineshaft, she could see all the commotion happening bellow her, but she tuned her attention to the rising sun instead. Away from the people, away from the reality.

Her heart was throbbing painfully inside of her chest even when she sat silently out in the desert, staring off into the distance of the horizon. Every limb of her small frame hurt, even after she had healed all radiation out of her body as well as the others. Every inch of her mind hurt, even after the others had convinced her that Caine alongside the sacrifice of Duck had officially killed the Gaiaphage.

In fact, it only made her feel worse that a life had been taken just to save her. Sam tried to explain that it hadn't been her fault. That they needed the monster dead, for Caine not to pull off another dangerous move like the previous one. Yet his message had been said half heartedly and Lana was having a hard time letting it sink in properly.

She could hear the sound of a pair of sneakers crushing rubble underneath its soles, the sound growing stronger by the second. Even when the intruder stood in front of her, she didn't bother with acknowledging the presence of the intruder, not until he extended his arm to hand her his half emptied water bottle. She took it obediently, opening the bottle and taking a small sip which she gurgled and spit out onto the ground again, rinsing her mouth of vomit, before drinking the rest of its contents in one sip.

'Are you okay?' he asked her.

'No,' she replied. What an understatement. Through the past couple of days, she had burned her own skin off, in an attempt to burn a monster that was inside her very own head. She had shot the sweetest allie of hers who had been nothing but a loyal friend to her since the first day they met. Then her whole mission ended up as a complete failure when they had to come to rescue her and Duck sacrificed himself. Worst of all; she could barely remember half of it. Instead, she had gotten the entire story vividly replayed in Sams words, disapprovement tainting the corner of his eyes every once in a while. So not being okay didn't even begin to cover up how devastated she was at the moment.

He sat down next to her.

'Caine and Diana, they took off, probably on their way back to Coates. And Sam is getting bet-' he was cut off.

'What about Drake?' she asked, looking at him for the first time. Her brows were wrinkled out of curiosity, wondering wether he'd left him out by accident. Or maybe he'd stayed at the power plant as a distraction or something? But she'd seen him! He had been right there! She had touched his chopped up arm, acknowledged his heartbeat, felt his breath. That couldn't possibly be another one of the Gaiaphages dirty tricks...

Could it?

She shook her own head, whispering to herself, letting her palms slide across her face. No, Drake had been there. And he was fine. He wasn't caused by the Gaiaphage! They had destroyed the Gaiaphage!

Sam had told her... Obviously he couldn't have been mistaking such an important scene.

Their eyes locked, and staring into Quinns tense eyes, the answer was technically written there. And when the color of his iris' softened, she felt a huge lump build up in her stomach. Her entire body turned tense as she realized what was going on.

What felt like a century of crushing silence embraced them like a carpet, laying unimaginable weight on Lana, bringing her down.

'He's dead,' he said as a matter-of-factly. It was predictable, it was, but knowledge is never fully confirmed until someone does said; confirm it. And the way that he did just that, as if it was good news, amazing ones actually... 'He attacked Diana, so Caine finished him off.'

She felt her heart - more like every fibre of her body, really - being crushed beneath an intense weight. Almost like when she broke her arm in the desert; as if the very core of her bones were being squeezed between two metal plates. Her teeth cupped the inside of her cheek, the same she had done that time with Drake, and she bit down forcefully. And just like the time before, she did not hesitate, even when blood was drawn.

'But I saw him.' she whispered, staring at the grass with eyes as empty as the void.

'I thought you said you couldn't-' he was cut off again.

'I can't. I can't remember much of it, anyways. It all comes in waves, making the memories unclear. Making my mind all foggy. It's hard making out what happened and what I'm just making up.' she admitted in a low, husky voice.

'You were down in a mineshaft filled with radiation. You're... uhm, you're braincells might've, you know...' he replied, making sure not to look at her as he scratched his neck insecurely.

'I'm not mad.' she stated fiercely. Her head shook in small, abrupt motions, in a bigger attempt at convincing herself rather then anyone else. 'I'm not, I- I _saw_ him.'

Without being able to help herself, she started weeping hysterically, leaning her head on his shoulder, facedown in his shirt. The tears wouldn't stop flowing from her eyes, staining his t-shirt.

Quinn awkwardly laid an arm around her and tried calming her by making "relaxing" hushing noises and saying supposedly calming things such as 'It's over. We're safe,' and 'We'll get you healed, somehow,' something which concluded in her weeping even harder. He even added a careful 'Everything is going to be okay,' in there, something which just pissed her off, but she was drained of energy, and had no power left within herself to hit him or scream or sob louder then she already was.

The pain of her empty stomach wasn't even noticeable compared to what was going on inside of her. She wasn't even sure of were the pain came from, but she felt the weakness of not having eaten in a long time, being dehydrated even when she just got to drink, being drained from the memory of shooting a friend, feeling as dead as the boy she once abandoned.

She had defeated the Darkness, yet it was still there. In this hellhole of a dome, there was no win. Only survival - if you were even that lucky. They all lost, even those that didn't realize it. Everyone lost in here, because they were overpowered by a greater force then all of them together.

As her sobs turned into hiccups, her mind stayed unclear, obscure even. The world was spinning around about her free falling frame. There was a gap inside of her, were the pain of the stabbing daggers once had been located. The harrowing feeling had left her, but it had taken with it whatever was there before, leaving her even more exposed and vulnerable then before. More inhuman.

The arm Quinn wasn't holding Lana in, extended in her direction, to cup her trembling hands in his own. It should've been a considerate gesture. An action of care and admiration, one she should appreciate and enjoy. However the heat of his body made sweat break through to the surface of her skin, his soft voice making shivers of pure rage crawl up the back of her spine.

She sensed the anger washing over her, before she felt the wet tongue of her loyal dog brush her cheek. Lana halfheartedly let go of Quinn, turning around to let her arms cling around Patrick instead, as if he was the only thing tying her to sanity. Her sobs had returned, but were muffled by Patricks thick fur coat, and soon decreased to heavy, steady breathing as she fell asleep in tears.

* * *

**Well, reading through it one last time, it wasn't really all that sad, just depressing...:P**

**So I know what I said about updating within a week, but this chapter clearly needed some further development and I'm still not feeling a 100% happy about the result, but I was drained of ideas for how to make the chapter longer, more reliable and exciting, etc.**

**But I've got so much school work on my hands, and I'm already late at delivering in some shitty presentation for arts class which i gotta go write some more on now. So I hope you at least enjoyed it the slightest and hopefully the next chapter will be better!**

**And thank you, thank you, thank you Kyle3698, AncientSTORM and FAYZlover101 for your wonderful reviews! Reread them today and they still make my day wonderful! Hope I'll see more of your reviews soon, because they're really sweet!**

**And this Authors Note is turning longer then the story... I'll just go now then! :P**


	8. Deteriorating

**Soundtrack: Schizophrenia - Blue October**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

The sun had just recently started rising from the sky, ignited light flashing through the sky in a pang of colors spreading across the emptied out dessert. The only life daring enough to make a statement in the hollow desolation was the rumbling SUV, driven in a beeline in the direction of the shore. No sounds were made other then the motor of the car, as it bumped up and down repeatedly on the dirt road, headed back towardsPerdido Beach.

Edilio, who seemed as healthy as ever - after Lana healed him - was behind the wheel, driving carefully through the rough terain. Dekka was riding shot gun, still shaken up by her interference with the coyotes. The second row was occupied by Astrid, Sam and Jack and the third one by Quinn, Lana and Patrick. Patrick was squeezed in between the two of them, lying with his head in the lap of his owner.

Lanas fingers kept touching strands of his hair, playing with them energetically as she stared emptily out into the desert. The closer they got to the west side of the dome, the sooner the darkness seemed to envelope the seven passangers again, the sun never really catching up with them. The gloomy dark prevented her from seeing far, yet she felt as if she saw it all. She had seen it before, walked it before. Travelled by feet as part of the coyote pack. Travelled side by side next to Drake.

She took a deep, shaky breath and the exhale came out as sob. After weeping for what had felt like a century, she had finally been able to calm down enough for them to finally drive back towards town. Yet, her eyes were watery and a few teardrops had run down her cheeks.

With each breath she inhaled, her chest would be heaving unsteadily, a sudden heaviness tugging at her insides. From the corner of her eye, she would spot one of the others throwing a pitying glance in her direction. It furied her, recieving such empathizing looks as if any of them understood her. They understood none of it. No doubt they'd be just as messed up as her had they been exposed to only a portion of the madness that had. Yet they could never truly understand. They most likely thought that it was due to being trapped inside of a cave for a day. And while that had been tough on her; she had been through so much worse.

She would not tell anyone about the voice that had been stuck inside of her head, because it would brand her as unstable and dangerous. And she could not tell anyone about Drake. They were all too ignorant, to innocent. She'd come to learn about their childlike weaknesses quite quickly, yet her paranoia alarmed her, stating that if she ever just brought up his name when telling them about her time in the FAYZ, someone might get a hang of the expressions that'd flash across her face. They might make a connection between her physical damage, her sudden turn of emotions, the way she'd always take a sudden notice to when someone mentioned him.

She shook it off, internally agreeing with herself that any clue left behind that could be connected to Drake needed to be disconnected. It would be too big of a shame if anyone found out about what had went down between the two of them. She needed to forget.

He was dead now, he couldn't bother her anymore. He wouldn't be able to show up at her doorstep, he wouldn't be able to drag her across the dessert, cage her in at Coates for him to kiss her or kick her whenever he felt like doing so. He was no longer here to torment her with his too complex persona.

Yet he was there. In her mind. Lingering, braided into her memories, her every thought, now of him.

But they wouldn't find out. If so, they'd have to figure it out themselves, and that would be pretty damn hard. The person with the most clues would be Quinn, who had seen her breakdown as soon as he stated his death, but he was way too naive to make anything out of it. His immaturity would probably just cause him to think that she was having her PMS.

The car slowed down as Edilio parked outside of Clifftop. Quinn stirred in his seat, seemed on the verge of saying something to her, but Lana turned her back on him, clearly not interested, and got out before he ever got the chance. She walked up the stairs and entered the lobby with Patrick at her tail, without bothering to say goodbye to any of them. She took the elevator up to the second floor where the two of them had been living by themselves for almost three months now.

With every step she took towards the door to her room, her limbs felt heavier, weaker and she was barely able to open the door to her room and enter it before she collapsed up against the wall.

It was nothing like the time she had walked down to Perdido Beach, lacking energy due to food and sleep deprivation. She was physically exhausted now, yes, but that wasn't the source to her current struggles. Now, she was worn out emotionally, anguish pushing her to the ground, her head spinning.

So as soon as the door to her hotel room was closed behind her, she sank to the ground, leaning the back of her head to the door. Her vision was unsteady, filled with spots at one moment and then everything within her view would spin violently. Her eyes shut forcefully in an attempt at making it stop and was soon replaced by loud sobs shaking her starved frame. The sight was miserable. And Patrick seemed even more alarmed by his masters tears now, then before.

He whimpered and came to her need right away, but she pushed him away. With each attempt he made at showing affection, she would slap him away. Not painfully, though the rejection itself did seem to make an impact on the already confused dog. In the end, Patricks weak attempts at licking her face had finally stopped and he settled with laying down by her side again, just like earlier, watching her carefully without touching her.

The part of her that was able to comprehend this act of bravery form her dog, was thankful for it. She felt appreciative of how even after having violently pushed her beloved dog away, he stayed beside her, keeping her safe in the only way he could. She didn't want to hurt him, it just happened. She wished she could control herself, her emotions, her actions, her _mind_.

She clutched her head in between both of hands, leaning forward with her forehead pressed down against the rug. This was supposed to be over. She had destroyed the Darkness so that she could be rid of the nightmares that flashed before her eyes even when awake. She had set herself on fire, just so she could escape that goddamned monster.

Why wouldn't it go away?

And that was when she started screaming. The cries burned her throat, tore at her insides, filled her eyes with tears and caused her ears to pump unbearably painful. It took one scream for Patrick to stand up alertedly, two screams for him to start whimpering, three for him to close the distance between the two of them, and on the fourth he ran away, seeking cover behind the bed as if it would lower the sound of her heartbreaking shrieks.

When Lanas voice was broken and her chest was heaving from the heavy use of vocals, she sat up straighter, eyes still closed, cheeks still soaked, and for the first time since she escaped the mineshaft she did what she hadn't had the courage to do then; she searched her mind. She searched every corner of her brain, looking for... Something. She couldn't feel it. It wasn't communicating with her. Just...

Just what, she did not know. Gone? Her mind seemed distantly set, heavily focused the same way she'd feel whenever she was fixated on healing something. Someone. She knew for a fact that she wasn't healing herself. It was using her. Taking an advantage of her power. She didn't like the sound of that, nor the feeling of it being inside her head in this way, though she did feel at ease at the utter silence within herself.

The voice was gone. The agony was gone. The illusions she had seen, the confusion it had caused.

All gone.

That was what she had asked for, wasn't it? Yet, the scares remained inside of her, and the power to forget was a skill she lacked greatly of. So crying out in sorrow was the best way for her to ever recover. So yet again, she sunk backwards, halfway sitting, halfway lying on the floor as tears and snot streamed down her face, self-pity filling every fiber of her body.

The shock was still there. The trauma. The despair.

She was only waiting for the relief and the hope of a better future in the FAYZ to kick in, but it never seemed to come.

* * *

One day bled into the other without making her able to address the time that had past.

It took four full days for the anguish and the grief to build itself sky high walls inside of her, preventing from anyone being able to knock it down. After that it took another two days for Quinn to return to his accommodating state, due to Sam having given him a strict message to stay away for a while, yet he had returned much sooner then the mayor would be pleased to hear.

On the ninth day she was finally grasping the fact that her mind was no longer being under the control of the Darkness, that she was free again - or as free as a post-tormented person could possibly be. The day after was when he finally found his place inside of her head. He settled down, pushing all other memories and thoughts to the side, spinning them like crazy and blending into each of them almost immediately. She tried not to question herself about how he had come to appear before her in the mineshaft when he was supposedly dead, due to every thought of him usually driving her off track.

It took another three days for her to start craving Quinns company. The lack of another presence in the silent hotel room had - finally - gotten to her by then, and his never-ending attempts at ignoring her at soon gotten her drugged on self-pity.

Another two weeks went by before she returned to the old habits of questioning her sanity. Quinn had first told her that she was overthinking things. That she was getting to herself by being caught up in her own head, choosing her imagination over reality. She never reacted positively to Quinns brave acts of honesty, and so he no longer felt very welcome up at Clifftop. He continued visiting, yet less frequent, and without giving her any excuse, she soon felt even more left behind.

The only one she felt that she could truly connect with was Patrick. He never seemed to judge her any further then hiding behind the bed whenever she had a violent break down. Yet the moment she had overcome the urge to throw things around, and instead collapsed onto the floor in a small heap of misery, then he'd slyly make his way over to her and lick her face lovingly, confirming to her that he was _still_ _there_.

Having him stay behind with her was a cure of its own. His ability to forgive her for every time she would attempt to harm him was heartbreaking, yet she was forever thankful for it. When she calmed down, she'd always try and make it up to him, treating him with the love she used to possess for her dog before.

Yet there was always a side of her that was fearing when she would lose it completely.

* * *

**So... Sorry about the long wait and the lame update. You see, I've been busy with school, but then I got back last week and was ready to update some of my stories. And I've actually written the chapters 8-12 on beforehand, so I was confident that if I just read through it twice and edited it some more it'd be up in mere hours. **

**But like I said I've been busy with school work and even before then I wasn't really doing much editing on them, because I found it more relevant to finish off the earlier chapters first. Soooooo, you can guess what happened, fanfiction thought I didn't want my stories, so they ate most of them. I sent them a mail asking to get them back, but I currently feel kind of ignored...xD**

**Anyways, my exams are coming up, meaning less homework and more preperation. First off will me Norwegian and English writing, so I'm taking this as an invitation to read and write shit loads as my preperation. SO, I'm hoping to update one of my stories just about every other day for the next two weeks, how does that sound? :)**

**So make sure to leave some wonderful reviews down bellow and you might incurage me to update this one quicker as well. You could also request other stories if you read any of my others, and it may or may not happen depending on wheather I have the inspiration. **

**And thank you thank you thank you thank you to FAYZlover101, Randomblackberry and AncientSTORM for reviewing, I really appreciate it! :D**


	9. Failure

**Soundtrack: Savior - Rise Against**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

'It's been three months, Lana,' Quinn stated, glancing anxiously over at her, scared, always scared, that he might've crossed a line. Lana didn't respond him. She was staring off into the horizon of the dome, beyond the water.

They were standing on the balcony of her hotel room, Lana smoking a cigaret while Quinn had helped himself to a glass of water.

'Whatever happened in there... We've all given you the chance to get passed that.

'Why haven't you come here in so long?' she asked him suddenly, her voice a hoarse whisper, barely heard over the sound of the waves against the reef down bellow them.

Quinn looked at her questioningly, thinking the answer was obvious. 'You've made it quite obvious to the rest of us that you clearly prefer being on your own.' he said, suddenly feeling less secure, stumbling over his words in a rush to get his point out. 'We all thought it was the best to let you heal in the way that you'd prefer.'

'So why do you still show up here?' she pushed it. 'No one's forcing you to keep coming.'

'The FAYZ works, when we all do our job. You're the only healer, Lana, we can't replace you, even if that's what we wanted. We gave you time to heal, but to some it is starting to seem like you're just taking your time doing nothing up here.'

'But you don't believe that, do you.'

'No.' he said, a sudden urge to be brave appearing in his mind. 'At first, I wasn't sure what I believed. However I knew for a fact that the way your eyes will look so hollow, so _haunted_, that was pure. I don't think I've ever seen so much agony in a person, Lana. I've seen Sam in pain, but with you, that's different.'

'You still haven't answered my question,' she stated coldly, not the slightest moved by his attempt at emphazising with her. 'The previous one, I mean. About why you always show up here.'

'I care about you,' he stated simply, his words framed with the utter devestation of knowing that whatever he said or did, she'd reject him.

When she said nothing, he dared himself to glance down at her, watching the girl as her eyes were still locked with the nothingness of the sea.

'I don't know what happened to you. I just know that it was bad. I know it messed you up. I know that to some degree you're all of a sudden incapable of functioning in a society, but I don't care about that.' he stated, having no idea where he got this sudden urge from, yet being thankful that he did, because it did seem to break through to her on some level. He sighed in exasperation as he saw her stir, being brought back to reality by his words. 'I just care about you. And I want to help.'

For however long, she just stood there, eyes on the horizon as the sun was closing in on the ocean. She placed the cigarett against her lips and inhaled deeply, not letting any of the smoke escape her lips as she exhaled again. He was sure she'd choke on the smoke, or at least react to it somehow, but not even her eyes seemed to reveal any difference. Then she opened her mouth and relieved him with her words: 'You're right.'

'I... I'm what?' Worst. Comeback. Ever. Then again, Quinn hadn't really expected this reaction, so he just stood there, blinking down at her and waiting suspense-fully for an explanation as for how on earth she had come to the conclusion of being right.

'You're right,' she magically repeated, tossing her only half finished cigarette over the balcony. Her eyes suddenly turned cold and with a glare she continued. 'you don't know what happened.'

Before he even got the chance to come up with a reply, she turned entered the hotel room again, showing the glass wall so hard into place that the glass itself started to vibrate. He opened the door after her and followed in her footsteps. He'd expected her to throw a fit of anger, yell at him or something close enough to it, throw him off guard with some violent move he wouldn't have seen coming.

However he found her on the bed, her shoulders hunched over and her neck bent downwards, her small frame looking so vulnerable. Every time Quinn came to visit, he'd always hope that that day would be different. That that day would be the day she'd let her wall down, open up, talk to him. He'd spent so much time thinking of how he'd get there, that the thought of what he'd say when she was willing to talk had never really struck him.

Hesitantly he walked over to where she was sitting. He sat down further up on the bed, leaving about a foot of space in between them to avoid any mixed feelings or assumptions. He put aside his glass of water on the bedside table before he reached out and grabbed her hand - a bold move on his part - holding it in between both of his own.

'Tell me.' he said. He spoke softly, his voice not the normal nervous, unease of a young, unconfident boy. He sounded determined, yet he did not speak a command. The two words were a simple request, no, an opportunity for her to open. Just this once. To speak her heart out and lay out the horrors in her head, exposing them once and for all.

Quinn could almost make out the wheels in her head spinning, making out the situation, yet he figured that beside her hard focused mind, she somehow wasn't processing what was really going on. She had yet to pull her hand away, or get up off the bed, or yell at him, or tell him to leave, or let her actions speak for her through violent streaks.

Yet she didn't. She stayed there, simply staring into space, thoughts flashing through her mind. Potential memories that may or may not be appropriate for her to tell him. The conceivable responds she might get. The scenarios, every single one that he might lead up to if only she told him.

He sat there patiently, his hands still holding hers, watching her warily. Not a word was spoken, barely a sound made as they sat around, both on edge, loosing their minds due to the intolerable suspense.

Lana turned towards him, her eyes locking with his own. As he stared into her eyes, an old quote came to mind, one he read in some book at school the year before _W__hen you look into the void. The void looks back at you. _making him feel weird as Lanas eyes did in fact remind him of two soulless vacuums.

Somewhere in between the quickly passing moments, Lana had thrown herself onto Quinn. After so many weeks of him trying to reach out, and her constant denial, he had lost all hope. His mind was elsewhere as her hands reached out to slip around his neck. She leaned towards him, the light tug on the back of his head leaving a simple implement for him to do the same. And so without a single though entering his mind; he obliged.

And their lips met.

The first though that reached Quinns mind? _She should really cut down on the cigarettes_. As realization seemed to finally dawn on him, that was the first thought that seemed to reach him, though it was clearly overpowered within seconds as he soon began to enjoy the feeling of her lips against his own.

She acted shyly, not daring to go any further, letting Quinn take the lead for once. He leant backwards in the bed, her following close behind, keeping her lips on his as the scene got more heated.

Somewhere in between the sucking at each others skin and heavy gasps for air, they had rolled over onto the far corner of the bed, Quinn slamming his elbow into the nightstand in the process. For a second they both stopped and stared at each other, Quinn starting to feel slightly too exposed as Lana laid beneath him, staring into his eyes yet again.

However she didn't pull back, she laughed. She laughed at his clumsy, awkward attitude and before he was able to comprehend the absurd scene unfolding before him, she had yet again closed the distance between the two of them, grinding her body against his as their heated kisses continued.

They rolled over once again, Lana on top of Quinn as she pulled off his shirt. He felt himself growing nervous at where things were headed, but there was no time for commenting on it, because as he helped her with getting his shirt off, his arm slammed into the table anew, this time slamming into his glass of water as well.

The glass wobbled, fell over onto its side - spilling was was left of the liquid - and rolled across the cabinet, slipping over the edge and colliding with the floor. It didn't happen in slow motion, it simply occurred very slowly, yet they were both too absent-minded for either of them to react before the glass had fractured.

While bumping into the glass had drawn no attention, the sound of it shattering certainly did. Quinn was still more interested in the girl on top of him, yet Lana drew away immediately, sitting up and looking around to see what had caused the sudden disruption.

Her eyes went from Quinn, to the table, to the floor, and then back at Quinn, before she stared at the floor again, keeping her eyes there as she whispered 'get out.'

Quinn sat up in the bed in response to her command, yet he made no efforts at leaving.

She didn't comment on it any further, she just staid with her back turned at him as her gaze rested upon the shattered glass. However the atmosphere surrounding her - her excessive inhalations, her clenched jaw, her tense body - hinted that she did in fact know that he was still there. And she didn't like it.

Time passed once again. This time though, every minute that passed without a word felt unbearable to him. He sat up straighter, awkwardly moving closer to her and placing his hand on her shoulder. A stupid move.

He expected - no, he hoped - that the outcome would be somewhat positive. That just like at the mineshaft, so many months back, she'd break down, reach out to him, maybe even open up. Yet she just sat there, continuously staring at the ground, and he just sat there, continuously keeping his hand on her shoulder.

And then he felt it. On the right side of his head, right above his temple; cruelty, pain, sorrow, anguish, just a taste of the hundreds of feelings washing over him as the cold metal was held up against his head.

It had been on the bed table, the gun. He had placed the water glass right next to it. How couldn't he have noticed?

Everyone above the age of eight carried a weapon around in the FAYZ. Accustomed to it the way teens used to be to phones. It felt natural seeing the gun lying there. Even in the house of a mentally unstable girl, the signals of danger did not seem to show up in front of him.

'Lana...' he whispered, surprisingly calm, as if he accepted the situation completely. He knew he was an idiot. He had betrayed his best friend for the sake of not being beat up himself. He had started fishing for the sake of private wealth, yet had earned the status of a savior in the town. He had visited a dangerously sensitive girl for months, checking up on how she was doing, then taking advantage of her the first chance he got.

He was selfish. And he accepted that.

'Leave.' She spat at him, looking at him now as she stood and crossed the room to stand a couple of feet in front of him. The gun was directed at the middle of his forehead now.

He got up, staring her straight into the eyes. She held a threatening glare, the colorful orbs of her eyes igniting into certain emotions. He could easily make out the anger in them. Anger at him?

'I'll get you another glass, Lana. I'll clea-'

'It's not about the goddamned glass!' she yelled, her eyes welling up in tears. He wanted to ask her what she meant, but she continued on, every word spilling more misery then the previous one. 'You think you can help me. You can't. This has nothing to do with you, neither will it. Just get out!'

He made no move to leave. His feet as good as glued to the floor.

'I'm gonna...' she continued, her chest heaving now, as she breathlessly tried to complete her sentence. 'I want you out of here. _Now. _Or else I'll-'

The explosion was sudden. A mere impulse, a spontaneous move Lana didn't plan. She hadn't really kept much attention to the gun as she spoke. Its direction had been off, causing the bullet to grace the side of his leg, yet continuing, empaling the bed behind him instead.

The sudden burning, the blast of adrenaline and blood and pain. The pain was unbearable, and before he knew what was going on, he was on one knee, yelling out in mere agony. And then he was on his feet again, making a beeline at the door as a bullet to the head no longer seemed like the most inviting path.

As he exited the hotel room, he cast one last glance at the dangerous girl collapsing on the floor, Patrick by her side. She was whimpering, clutching her head until her knuckles had turned white. As the door shut behind him he could barely make out her shaking voice weeping. 'Get out of my head.'

* * *

**So this is basically how I've always imagined the scene when Lana brought it up for Sam in LIES. Or, I've never imagined it being quite that intimate, but I do remember having read one fanfiction before that was very similar to the way I've imagined it, and I want to keep some distance from that story for them not to be compared. Hope it wasn't too out of place, I kind of feel like it worked, now that I've written and edited it.**

**Thanks again to FAYZlover101 for yet another sweet review, I really appreciate it every single time! However I was kind of hoping to see some of you others reviewing? Even the smallest comment makes my day, just so you know! ;)**


	10. Frenzy

**Soundtrack: Such Small Hands - La Dispute**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

'I'm Lana Arwen Lazar, named after two fictional characters. I'm fifteen; I survived the poof. My parents are in Vegas, I'm stuck in a dome. There is...' she went silent, hesitated, sucked in a breath quite similar to someone who might just have had their chest stomped on my a horse. 'There is something in my head.'

She was lying on the floor, face down, her entire body sore and reeking of alcohol, cigarettes and sweaty clothing. _This_ was how she spent her life. On the floor, giving up. Drowning her sorrows, her memories and her fears with poisonous tobacco and liquor.

It was the only way out of it. Or so it seemed to her. The only way to get away from her problems would be to overpower them somehow. An eventual addiction no longer seemed like that big of an issue. Not after her desperate longings finally kicked in. Her longings to forget. To not feel.

She grabbed her head. It ached. Not just from the hangover she awoke to everyday, alongside the refusing of ever sobering up properly. Not just from the empty stomach of hers, rarely getting filled with any food now that Quinn no longer showed up with food for her and she hardly ever left the room herself.

No, Lana was simply losing it. Dying, really. In a way that an excessive amount of alcohol or an inadequate amount of food could never achieve. Her mind was spinning, as the presence of someone else inside her very head had possessed the majority of her control.

One thing she was sure of; she wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. However quiet it was... It was still there. She had underestimated it greatly. Of course it wouldn't disappear, just like that. No, of course it would just take a break, and then, when she'd finally feel a tinge of relief, a tinge of hope, it would return. Yet the presence had made no further statement than to make it's attendance known.

A whole new set of tears appeared in her eyes, as her small frame trembled.

'Pathetic.'

She gained control of her frantically shaking body, the moment she heard the voice, her head snapping to the side. She rolled over, desperately seeking the source of the voice. Facing the direction of the entrance, her eyes locked onto his.

'You're pathetic.' he repeated, moving toward her. Taking long strides, he gave off the familiar, intimidating vibe as his tall body towered over her. He bent his knees and sat down by her side, Lana still sitting in a half way upright position, staring at him with empty eyes in hollowed sockets.

He lifted his hand, stroking her cheek softly, the feel of his skin against hers, so utterly magnifying, yet tender. She couldn't make herself look away from him. He looked better then she could remember he had in a long time. Prominent bone structure, lean muscles, slightly tanned skin.

His hand stayed behind her neck, in place as if it was a part of the back of her head. Somehow, the vibrant touch made her forget about her current life crisis. Somehow, the complete silence made her feel serene besides her spinning mind. There was nothing awkward about the silence. Not to her. It had always been her obvious preference. Maybe even the reasoning as for why she and Quinn never worked out, why the thought of her living in the town made her nauseous; she wasn't able to keep up with the constant commotion.

She dreaded the time she'd have to sit back, open up and talk. There was just something about the simplicity of talking, something which got her to retreat back into her shell. However she pushed this aside, the comfort disappearing as she opened her mouth, in need of an answer.

'How are you here?'

His eyes had been avoiding hers; he seemed to attempt looking anywhere but into them. But in the end he leveled his gaze at her, his icy glare locking with her darkened ones.

His hand stilled and then motioned in an abstract way, unexplanatory to her. It seemed as if the limb was being stretched, staying in place and constantly growing, extending across her shoulder and falling limp between her shoulder blades.

She tore her gaze off of him, and looked across his arm, glancing down at the red, rough structure grazing the side of her neck.

Looking up again, her eyes struck with fear as the memories of his disfigured arm came crashing down upon her. His complexion darkened noticeably, a dreadful expression latching onto his features.

His functioning arm lashed out at her, the palm of his hand gracing her with enough force for her head to snap to the side. She didn't dare looking back at him. The shame intervening with the fear. Why wouldn't she ever admit it to herself? He was a monster. No matter what aspect she'd look at it from... He would always be a monster.

She dared herself to look, having challenged herself, once again pushed herself to the very limit. But looking back at where he had just been... he was gone.

Lanas eyes were stuck on the spot where he had been sitting, her mind still making out the frame of his body before her, yet the image was fading. She got up slowly, a hesitant, uncomfortable look on her face, her cheek still burning from his slap.

She looked around. Patrick was still on her bed, sleeping. Her glass of vodka was still lying on it's side, the rest of the liquid seeping into the carpet. One of Quinns fedoras - which he had forgotten and never brought back with him - was lying at the coffee table upside down, overwhelmed by cigars, gaining the status of an ashtray.

Bending down, she picked up the glass, looking down at it as she turned it around in her hand. Images surged through her mind, resurfacing yet again, just by staring at the transparent object she was holding onto.

However she could feel the presence in her mind returning once again, and as it reserved it's space, she could feel her memories being bleached from her own mind. The countenance of the boy she had just encountered with was become a stranger to her, every recognition of certain scenes, people, events were being mixed and mashed, her ability to pinpoint certain things now spinning out of control.

Opening her mouth she released a scream, clenching her fingers around the object as she swung her arm around, hand releasing the glass as her arm was hosted above her head, letting the glass fly across the room, colliding with the entrance door, and shattering.

Small pieces of the fractured glass went flying across the room, making Patrick bark in dismay. None of the pieces latched on to the poor dog as he jumped down behind the bed, seeking shelter incase the scene might repeat itself, yet an inch of fractured glass embed itself into her cheek, another in her arm.

Drops of blood were running freely, yet she didn't care about that, or anything else at that point. She wasn't able to make sense of the whimpering dog, or the extra set of shards by the bed. All that made sense was the misery, the sufficient amount of insanity she had let lose in that hotel room over the past couple of months.

It had to stop.

* * *

There wasn't much Drake knew at the moment. Though if you asked him about the mineshaft where the Gaiaphage was currently located, he could inform you of a couple of things. Not only was it fucking freezing down there, or dreadfully isolated - even for him-; it was timeless. He wasn't sure wether a year had past, or just an unbelievably boring hour.

The only thing he was able to comprehend, was that he no longer felt...anything.

The agony and dizziness; gone. The hunger and thirst; gone.

Only the remnants of concealed fear and pure shock were persistent. So obviously he felt a sense of relief as he was finally released from the Darkness' darkness.

He had to keep a slow pace as he made his way up towards the entrance, becoming teary eyed as his eyes adjusted to the light. So the power didn't turn him immune to light. It didn't make him immune to pain either. Not really. It just helped him recover from it quicker then usual. He had gotten that fact straight as he spent the past months one on one with the Gaiaphage._  
_

So currently, this only felt like a shitty power that the Darkness had granted him, considering how to him it felt as if the only reason he had gotten it would be so that the monstrous creature in the cave could beat on him more frequently without him having trouble regaining his health afterwards.

Besides recent four months had been traumatisingly boring, they had given him plenty of time to experiment with the condition of his new... arm. That hadn't been as much the Darkness as it had been Lana, though. He'd make sure to repay her next time he saw her.

A slight tug at the side of his face, exposed a genuine smile to strike his features. He was excited. He was growing stronger, more powerful, he realised.

The tables were turned now. He'd always been one of the dominating people of the FAYZ. Yet with the Gaiaphage as his mentor, and his new additions to his already flawless battle strategies; he would be invincible.

* * *

**I don't know how that was. Good, I hope? **

****So I wanted to inform you all that a couple days back Royalty Over Reality told me that this story - as well as Destruction of the Endurance have - been added to the GONE awards 2014. I have no idea how it works or anything, but it's still pretty cool, and it sounds kind of awesome when I spread the information at school. So yeah, I don't know if you can vote or anything, but anyhow check out the forum and read the stories there. I nominated quite a few myself, and they are definitely worth your time!****

**Thank you so much to FAYZlover101, TheeFirstEvil, AncientSTORM and JustAnny for your wonderful reviews! You're the best! ;)**

**Next chapter will be up in just a couple of days, so you make sure to leave a heartwarming review that'll make my Christmas fabulous as well as your own! ;)**


	11. Combustion

**Soundtrack: Sound of Darkness - Shinedown**

* * *

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

Two days had passed since Lanas previous break down. After the tension of the Darkness finally left her mind, she was finally able to gather herself enough to get back on her feet, lower her shoulders and sit back in her arm chair.

He mind was still spinning, tense and discomforting, yet empty. Whatever presence was there had left her. For now, at least, and she now found herself sitting by the balcony, heavily smoking a cigarette as she looked out through the glass. It was around 2am, making it impossible for her to spot the town, hadn't it been for one of the idiot habitants that had set the town on fire, it seemed.

The flames didn't bother her, though. In fact, they were pretty to look at. As she watched the flames from afar, she lifted her hand, pulling the cigar out of her mouth between index and middle finger and lowering her hand, before pushing the stump of the still smoking cigarette against her upper arm, squeezing it down with all her might, burning part of her skin in the process.

It wasn't the first time she found relief from the burning, that she had come to consider sensational. It had been going on for months, though it was not as frequent as her... louder break downs. Though when sitting still, and being relaxed, she tended to keep herself that way somehow, by cutting, feeling the skin beneath the cigar somehow subside as the surface changed structure, color.

As the first one finally burned out, she took out another cigar from her package, working the lighter on it as if she had done so her entire life, and placing it between her lips yet again as if she spent her day doing nothing else - pretty accurate. Her only bother about this lifestyle of hers being that she was coming close to running out of cigarettes, meaning she would have to return to the town sometime soon now, if she ever wanted a refill. Which she knew all to well she would not only want, but need.

Before she got the chance to finish her smoking and return her attention to her arm, a knock on the door brought her back to focus. With a heavy sigh she got up onto her feat, fearing that it was Sam returning once again. He had come only a couple hours after she had recollected herself from the previous break down - and was pretty damn close to trigger her into another fit - yet she was too exhausted to even bother anything other then crying.

Stumbling across the room in the direction of the door, she passed by a full length mirror, covering the wall opposite of her bed. Taking a look at herself, she felt a tinge of her old self - her more girly self - the one desperate for popularity, constantly caught up with how she dressed and acted. This old specimen of her was facepalming at how she had somehow allowed herself to let boys into her room, dressed the way she was.

Her hair was tangled, some pieces having knotted themselves together to the point where they were now currently developed into solid dreads. She was wearing a pair of boys boxers and her top was, believe it or not, the t-shirt Quinn had left behind the day she pulled the gun on him.

Lana knew that the lack of sunlight had caused her to skin to whiten, yet she had never realized how bad it had been getting. She damn right looked like an albino. Her somewhat white skin adding up with the rings beneath her eyes from multiple sleepless nights made her look terrifying, not to mention the scars from previous cigarette burns, making a vile contrast, drawing immediate attention.

Yet with the gun in her hand and one of her last cigars between her lips she did not only look like some homeless dealer, but somewhat more badass than originally intended.

There was another knock at the door, drawing her attention back from her unsettling reflection. She closed the distance to the door, glancing through the peephole for safety. After the incident at the Power Plant, four months earlier, even places such as the hotel were deprived of light, and beside her lighting a couple of candles in her room in the evenings, the rest of the hotel was abandoned by all sources of light.

Considering that she never left her hotelroom anyways, it never really bothered her, other than when she had visitors, which would make it harder for her to make out who was on the other side of the door.

She could make out the shape of someone tall, masculine, blonde hair covering the majority of what she supposed was a boys face. A sigh escaped her lips. Although she wasn't planning on going to sleep any time soon, that was not an invitation for Sam to drag her off into the town in the middle of night to heal whatever idiot set fire to the Town Plaza.

For another couple of seconds she just stood there, in front of the door, her hand on the handle and her gaze fastened on the wooden door, wondering if he would go away if she did not answer. She was still shaken up by their previous encounter, even if she had handled the situation well... Well, as in better then usual, anyways.

Another knock and an impatient sigh from the other side of the door, brought her head up to stare straight through the door, were she guessed his head might be located, as if she could see him through the thick wood. Now he was going to leave, she was sure of it, but when he sighed again, he did not walk away. He opened his mouth and spoke.

'I know you're there, Lana.' he said, his voice dark, intimidating, yet not the usual cruelty she'd gotten so used to. She could recall that voice anywhere, and the image of his face entered her mind again, all at once, occupying her head once again.

She unlocked the door and opened it. It was as if her actions were driven by his voice, by the knowledge that he was there.

As the door slid all the way open, they both just stood there, studying each other, taking in the others appearance, as if what the other looked like would somehow update them on what had been going on in one anothers life through out all the lost time.

Lana noted how he today looked nothing like he had two days back when she imagined him last. This time, he was more beat up, his clothing ragged, dusty, his hair even shaggier than she had ever gotten used to. He wasn't tan like she had observed two days earlier; in fact, he was as pale as he'd always been, if you did not count the ultimate dirt covering just about every inch of his bare skin.

And his arm... His right arm was just like she remembered it had been at the end of their two previous encounters. Red, rough skin stretched out into what could only be the most awful replica of a humanized whip.

Lana noticed how he stared at her too, probably taking in the horrid sight of what had become of her.

Then Drake realized she was staring at him, and glanced upwards to meet her eyes, his face twisting back and forth unsure of how to react, of what to say or do to her, now that he was there.

'I didn't walk across the desert all day just to stand here and be gaped at.' he pointed out to her in a taunting manner, a playful sneer playing at his lips as he gestured at her. She did realize she was blocking the doorway, standing in the opening, one hand holding the gun, the other holding onto the door so it wouldn't budge an inch. They both noticed the awkward silence surrounding them as she stepped aside for him to enter.

Not until Drake had gotten the chance to look around the room and Lana had closed the entrance door again, did she walk over to him, grabbing him the moment she got within reach, catching him off guard as she slammed her fist into his jaw.

Her arm went flying even after having hit bullseye, and her body followed along as she stumbled across the floor, her wrist burning. Yet the pain faded quickly, as she got distracted by the sound of the boy behind her groaning and cursing.

'Jesus fuck! First you won't let me in, then you punch me?!' he basically yelled at her, his fiery eyes meeting hers the moment she turned back to face him. 'God, I don't even see why I came at all, then. I had quite a good time running around the town harassing everyone. I should've just stayed there. Getting a good scare on Sammy Boy would be way better of a welcome back then you fucking fist.'

As he blurted all this out, Lana just stood there, staring at him, panting besides not haven showed any great effort at exercise other then taking advantage of Drakes face as a somewhat suitable punching bag. When she said nothing, he continued throwing his tantrum.

'Jeez, I could've whipped him bloody, I could've whipped them all. Yet I came here. Maybe I should just finish you off. Make it quick and then move on over to them, get to finally test this out for once.'

When Drake finally quieted down, he looked over at her, his hand still resting on his jaw, his eyes still brutal.

Then he straightened his stance at the sight of her, the fury in his gaze decreasing as he looked at her wonderingly, curiosity taking over. Why was she just standing there? Besides the words having fully registered her mind, she did not seem bothered by what he'd said at all. Completely untouched.

They stood there, staring at each other in complete silence before finally, he gave in, sighing once again.

'You know why I came here, Lana.' he muttered, not feeling all too comfortable getting so close to what he considered an unnecessary confession. Taking the conversation any further felt inconvenient to him at the moment, no need to talk, really. He knew that she very well preferred silence, and so did he. She wouldn't be any more interested in hearing him open up then he was doing so.

So instead he took the final couple of steps towards her, to once again close up the distance between the two of them, gripping her face with his left hand, holding her against him for a long moment. With their foreheads pressed up against each other, their eyes never leaving each other, Drake finally got the response from Lana that he had wanted for so long, as she moved her head forward to greet his lips greedily.

With fierce passion, they held onto each other, as Lana dropped her gun and cigar onto the ground before finally she jumped into the air, latching onto him, her legs curling around his hips, him holding onto her thighs as he backed up, laying down on the hotel bed with her on top of him.

They went on kissing, moving along each other the same way they had did more then half a year ago, a ghost of a smile spread across the lips of both teenagers.

Drake couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger as he pulled off Lanas t-shirt which he was convinced was a boys shirt. All anger was forgotten pretty quickly though as it was Lanas turn to button up Drakes shirt, finding it quite difficult to pull it off of his whip. They ended up with having to tear up the right sleeve, something which took Lana more time then she imagined, because for some reason she couldn't help but be caught up laughing.

'What's so funny?' Drake asked as he pulled away from her, looking down at her grinning face, waiting for an answer for once, sincerely wondering why his condition was considered so hilarious to her, when nothing else ever seemed to amuse her.

'This just seems too real.' she stated.

It was the first thing she had said to him since he arrived, and would be the last words spoken that night, leaving him wondering for the rest of their time together what she had meant by that.

Somewhere through the night, they both completed the process of undressing the other as clothing was spread across the room. Through out, they rolled around, lustfully fighting for dominance.

Drake never left her side when they were done. Their night together consisted of no stinging blades, harsh words, or possessive gestures. In fact, when they were done and Drake laid with flat on his back with Lana on her side, using his bare chest as a pillow, it all seemed slightly too... normal.

_You know you're growing mad when you believe these kind of circumstances are normal_, she reasoned with herself, as darkness seemed to cloud her vision, sleep taking over only hours before the sun rised.

* * *

A couple of sweat drops trickled down Quinns forehead as he was handed a bucket filled with water from Cigar, passing it on to the next fisherman in the line. They had been going at it like this for too long now, and Quinn was starting to feel his arms tremble from the heavy, constant movements. Yet he did not stop

This was his family, right here. They had accepted him, somehow, even if some had lost hope for him after having betrayed Sam. Yet to them he had become a leader, a friend, and he was looked up to as that. He needed to keep on fighting for the town, alongside them. Everyone had already accepted him after he solved starvation, yet he was never able to live up to his own expectations, pushing himself to his very limit from time to time.

'Quinn!' he heard a familiar voice call out for him.

Quinn didn't turn around to face the tresspasser, considering how he was currently passing yet another bottle and not wanting to stop the work, knowing he would clog the progress for the rest of the group too. Not that there was any need for Quinn to look at the person who was seeking him, for other reasons than showing proper manners, considering how he could easily tell it was Sam.

'Hey brah.' he panted as Sam appeared in his side vision sprinting forward. He slowed his pace and straightened up in front of Quinn, not offering the fishermen any help, and - unfortunately - not pulling Quinn away for more private business. Instead Sam stood in front of him, allowing him to keep working as he spoke.

'The fire seems to be dimming.' Sam stated, clearly accurate. From where Quinn and Sam where standing, they were about fifteen feet from the burning buildings, another fisherman from Quinns crew, lined up from the beach and all the way over to the houses, keeping between 1 and 2 feets distance in between each other as they efficiently passed on the buckets.

Sam looked at ease by the sight of proper cooperation, genuine team work between willing teens who wanted the best for the community of the FAYZ, regardless of wether they'd get paid or not, driven only by the knowledge that it was the best for everyone if the fire was put out.

'Listen Quinn, I have to go get my hands on Zil and the rest of his Human Crew, what with being a leader and all,' Sam started. It wasn't his way of bragging about his already well known status. It was closer to a complaint; Quinn felt as if he could sense Sams sadness, his need for a hug or some kind of support, maybe guidance for him to get rid of the awful burden it was to take charge of the town. Quinn felt slightly annoyed by Sams self-pitying attitude, but tried to remind himself that this was how he always acted himself, and so he really had no right to criticize anyone. Sam seemed kind of off, for a moment, before he caught himself, continuing. 'Listen man, we need Lana down here to do some healing, and everyone else are too busy with-'

'I don't know brah, we aren't really...' Quinn didn't know what to say any further then that, looking down to the ground and scratching his neck with one hand, before he felt the cold metal of a water bucket bump into the side of his arm, forcing him continue with his job as he tried to come up with someway to formulate himself properly, to explain to Sam what had happened. He was completely caught off guard when Sam finished for him.

'So you dropped a glass,' Sam stated, making Quinn glance up at him in shock, having difficulty grasping how Sam might've figured out. 'Look, I went up there myself, alright? Yesterday I went there, and she told me about it. I don't know why, but she did. And then when I tried to talk some common sense into her; I just tried to get her to collaborate with me, really. You know like, act civil and stuff. And she just lashed out at me.'

Quinn wasn't surprised by this, not really, though for some reason the part about Lana telling Sam seemed to bother him a lot. He wasn't sure how much Lana had told him, and although he was convinced that she hadn't vividly explained to Sam exactly how he had ruined the glass, he still felt his face heat up at the thought of anyone having figured out exactly what happened between him and Lana.

'I get that she... did some impulsive shit,' Sam went on, gesturing at Quinns leg, all bandaged up after having been Lanas bullseye. 'But really, you're the only one she ever willingly spoke to. I get it if you don't want to continue those frequent visits, alright, but this isn't about you, Quinn. There are some nine year olds at the plaza now, with some serious wounds. Not fatal, but seriously painful. So go take a second look at those wounds, listen to their whimpers, and then come here and tell me you don't want to do this. You could always find Edilio and get one of his riffles, if you'd rather hunt down Zil for me while I go get Lana?'

'We're going fishing after having put out the fire... Alberts order.' Quinn attempted, knowing all too well that he'd lost. Sams stern voice and expression had made the discussion final. He wasn't sure wether the part about hunting Zil with hunting gear was mere exaggerations to get his point straight, or if Sam was actually serious about this, but he knew for a fact that he certainly _did not_ want to stick around to find out.

'You can fish if you want,' Sam stated, his voice restrained and his eyes looking urgent, stressed out. Quinn was wondering when the last time Sam got a proper night of sleep had been. 'But I understand if it will be to much work, and in that case, don't go fishing today. The other fishermen will do just fine without you for one day. Either way, I'm begging you to get up there and bring her down. You're both obligated to do your part in this community, all right? And currently getting everyone back on their feet is our main priority. '

'Alright.' Quinn said at last, nodding slowly.

'Thanks brah,' Sam said, relief washing over his face. He placed his hand on Quinns shoulder as a sign of gratitude. Then he turned on his heel, running down the street, stopping a couple yards further down, turning around and pointing at Quinn yelling at him 'Be there by sunrise!'

Quinn stayed behind, passing on buckets until the fire finally burned out, before he and the rest of the crew moved on to the boats by the beach to start their fishing. He decided to go fishing before going to get Lana, wanting to come there as late as possible, giving her more time to sleep in hopes that there more rest she'd get the less of a chance there was for him to get shot.

This of course, would be what he would've used as a reasoning if anyone asked him. And although it was true, there was also the same, old whimp inside of him, terrified to arrive at Clifftop, knowing that he'd face a hole new lot of drama he had desperately attempted to avoid for the past month.

Although there was no sight of the sun in the horizon, the sky was beginning to turn lighter, giving Quinn a decent three hours of life before he'd have to go pick her up. He could feel a shiver run up his spine at the thought of returning to the hotel.

He knew she was unstable, and that a lot of horrid things had occurred there. Yet he'd never had any idea just how bad things could get.

* * *

**Thanks to FAYZlover101 for your review! :)**

**Merry Christmas everybody! **

**The next (and last) chapter will be up on the 30th, so make sure to take some time off to read it! **


	12. Disordered

**Soundtrack: Kissing Cousins - Don't Look Back**

**The 30th of December last year I suddenly decided I wanted to become an author. Ambitious, I know. xD Anyhow, that same day I published the worst chapter I have ever written; a 700 word chapter about Lana healing Drakes arm. I have so many times wanted to delete it simply because I'm ashamed of how badly it was written. Anyhow I have in my opinion improved drastically over the past year, writing various fanfictions (which unfortunately get updated too rarely) and I've also gotten many ideas for my own stories which I do hope to get published sometime soon. I know I'm far from as good as the majority of the authors on this web page, though I'd like to think of myself as a pretty good one, with at least some great readers who give loving reviews and that I've come to appreciate so much over the past year. Thanks to everyone who's read my story, I hope you'll also take initiative to read some of my other stories from now on, considering that you've only got approximately 2000 words left of this one.**

**I wrote this chapter in April, guys. I gave it it's final touch today after having gone snowboarding to *insert Harry Potter voice* "finish things the way they started", since I got the idea for this chapter on the slope, and I was hoping to kind of renew my thoughts and improve this chapter further (didn't happen though).**

**So last chapter guys! Brace yourself, for what I hope is plot twists are coming...:3**

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THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

The bright light of the early morning broke through the curtains hanging above the terrace doors, lighting up the room besides the dark spirits surrounding it. Drake awoke from the blinding sun, feeling more at ease then ever. He was lying on his side, facing the entrance door, his back turned on the sharp sunlight. Beams of the sun had escaped the curtains and reflected onto something shimmering on the grown. He squinted down at the floor, realizing that the sparkling pebbles were pieces of glass.

He wondered what it was doing there, but still sleepy, he didn't bother thinking about it any further. Instead he rolled around, extending his arm to reach out for the girl lying next to him, however touching the empty sheets of the king bed instead.

Alarmed, he sat up, angered only by the thought that she might have left him once again. But as soon as he sat upright, he saw her from across the room, her back turned at him as she fumbled with something, blocked from his vision by her body. He pulled the blanket off of his legs and moved to get out of the bed, when Lana stopped him.

She had turned around by the sound of the sudden commotion, her face struck by a mix of shock and horror. As she stood facing him, he now saw what she was holding in her hands.

A gun.

'Lana... What are you doing?' he got onto his feet, treading carefully, not really sure of what she was planning on doing, or how far she was going to go. She flinched at his movements, but not until he took a step in her direction, did she flinch the arm baring the gun.

'Lana... Put that down,' he started, reaching out to his hand, palm outstretched, requesting for her to hand him the gun. 'Now.'

She didn't seem to listen to him. She didn't really seem to notice him at all, really. Her stare was blank and empty, eyes glazed over as she kept staring over his shoulder as if she was directed toward someone behind him.

'I can't do this anymore.' she whispered, her voice sounding restrained from the fear the pain that she refused to expose with more then her expression which was as out of control as her mind.

'Can't do _what_, exactly?' Drake hissed at her, sounding angered. Was she going to shoot him? Because she couldn't handle a relationship with him? What relationship, even? There was no commitment between the two of them. Both of them had made it clear by now that they liked things the way they were, so what the hell was she having second thoughts about?

'This...' she started, her voice turning weaker, more scared and defeated. Then she exhaled heavily before continuing, seeming more secure about her words. 'This has been going on for too long. You treat me like I'm some kind of puppet... And I'm tired of it!'

'Lana...' Drake muttered warningly. He was taken aback by this. He didn't get where she was getting this from, nor what he had done wrong that last night to trigger her into acting this way. Before he could defend himself, he was abruptly cut off.

'I'm tired of you forcing yourself onto me!' she continued, her voice a rapid hiss. He simply stared at her in shock as she stated this, having absolutely no idea what she was talking about. 'I'm tired of how you never give me a rest, ruining everything when I'm already at my worst. I'm tired of you pulling my goddamn strings all the time, simply spinning me out of control, giving me no chance at starting over!'

For once; he was at a loss for words.

'And every single time I try to _fight back_, you keep coming at me, making things worse then they were to begin with!' she screamed, her eyes still fastened on the wall behind him, still distant, yet now tears were exposed, slowly making their way down her tight cheeks, dripping from her furious, shaking face.

'I just can't seem to get rid of you. I'll run away. I'll blow you up. Nothing helps! Why doesn't it help?!' the last sentence was just a weak whimper. She bent over, her entire frame shaking with sobs, her face twisting into the most severed expressions of pain.

And then she gained her composure, stood upright, and lifted the gun. Not to store it away. And not to point it at Drake.

She pointed it at her own head.

'Lana, don't do this!' Drake warned. He could regenerate whenever he got hurt, but unlike Lana, he was not able to do the same for others. The only one who could heal others would be Lana herself, and he doubted she'd be to much use if her heart was no longer beating.

Her eyes twitched and suddenly they were directed straight at him.

'I need it to stop...' Lana spoke, now in a soft whisper. Her words, her expression; drenched in melancholy. He had never really thought of how dead she really looked, even when there was still some life left in her. Though there was no denying that her will to live was gone. She was giving up, and not until her eyes reached his did he realize that he was not the one she was escaping from.

It happened all at once: One moment they had been staring into each others eyes, Drake almost mesmerized by the overflowing agony within her. As he was about to open his mouth to speak once more, he had been interrupted by the sound of a loud bang erupting, almost from within the walls, making his ears almost beat by the sound. Even if he hadn't been so used to the sound of a gun going off, he still would've been able to pinpoint the sound.

Patrick yelped and jumped onto the bed, running across it and seeking shelter on on the ground behind it, up against the wall.

He felt a lump fill his stomach as Lana stood before him for another second, before altogether the hole bellow her right temple released an excessive amount of crimson liquid, her eyes rolled backwards, and she collapsed on the floor.

Drake stood there for however long, simply staring at her body lying limb on the floor. In utter silence, he walked towards her, stepping over the remnants of what he assumed was her brain, pushing one piece that was especially large out of the way. He bent down by her side and brushed her hair away from her face, taking a better look at the side of her face - where it was _supposed_ to be at least.

The pastel tapestry of the hotel room was splattered with her blood, a dark scarlet now running down the walls. He watch her as blood flowed through the tunnel carved in her head by the bullet. The hole continued to release blood, staining the carpet beneath where she laid, sticking to her hair and clothes. On her stomach laid a lump of... something, which he picked up indifferently and tossed away.

Things weren't really turning out the way he had expected it to. The place looked like a murder scene, there was no denying that. He'd have to get out of there immediately.

However, as he was about ready to get up, he heard a soft knock on the door. He tensed. Had the person heard the gunshot?

'Lana, please open up.' the voice sounded hesitant, insecure. Maybe if Drake ignored the boy he would go away.

'We'll have to speak of the kiss sooner or later,' Drakes head shot up, his face flushed red from anger. Kiss? What kiss? His eyes flashed back down at Lana and once again he took in the sight of the big boys t-shirt she had put back on after having awoken that morning. His eyes went back to the door, glaring daggers through it. 'and I've given you quite some time to think it through.'

He heard a sigh coming from the other side of the door. The handle of the door moved downwards and fuck; they forgot to lock the fucking door.

A boy he recalled as Quinn entered. His usual unease escalated quickly to something closer to absolute panic at the sight of Lanas dead body on the ground, next to a gun, which was now in the hands of _Drake_.

'You...' Quinn stammered, standing still as if his legs were nailed to the floor. 'You're supposed to be dead.'

'So are you,' Drake said musing. Quinn had little time to register his words before Drake positioned the gun to be aiming straight at the boy before him. He pulled the trigger and Quinns high pitched scream harmonized awfully with the gunshot, further creating the terror scene, accompanied by the red that spilled from his hip and the small pieces of human flesh that flew across the room; his body seeming to be blown apart not much unlike Lanas head had only minutes later.

The bullet dug into his pelvic bone, pain surging through every fiber of his body, his blood cells sending frantic signals to his brain. Within seconds he found himself on his knees, stumbling with his arm reaching out toward something, anything really to apply support to, fighting to gain balance.

The pain was insufferable. He kept blacking out, yellow spots dotting his vision as he swayed back and forth, holding onto the door frame for dear life, knowing that if he fell over; he would never get back up.

'That,' Drake started, walking towards were Quinn was collapsing by the door. 'was for kissing Lana.'

Drake kneeled next to Quinn, who was now staring at Drake not only with fear, but with questions. He was slow, but Drake made sure to let him figure things out before he went any further. Drake could basically see the wheels spinning in the head of Quinn, as sweat trickled down his forehead and he breathed in and out heavily, straining to control his breath, wishing beyond anything at the moment that someone had heard the gunshots; that someone would send help for him.

He knew that it wouldn't happen.

Drake leaned the barrel of the gun against Quinns solid chest. He waited, letting the words finally sink in, and when Quinns eyes went wide, Drakes teeth flashed into his trademark sharkgrin.

'This on the other hand,' Drake said, pushing the gun with great force against his chest, making him feel the cold of the barrel through his shirt. 'Is just for my very own amusement.'

Once again he pulled the trigger and the bullet made impact instantly. The closeness of the gun and Quinns chest made the bullet travel through his chest and hit the doorframe behind him. His chest was greatly fractured, part of his lunges and heart being torn and blown out of place by the force of the bullet. Small fragmented pieces of heart muscle fell onto the not-so-white carpet of the floor.

Drake got back onto his feet. The fire would cause people to crave Lanas healing powers, and someone would most likely be sent up there anytime soon. Waisting even a second in the room was a bad idea, yet he walked over to were she was lying on the floor and looked down at her in disgust. She had chosen out, and it made her weak. He hated her for doing so, yet not fully. Her words still clang freshly in his mind, but he pushed them away.

_Come to me..._

With one last glance in her direction he turned, stalking out of the room and making his way down the hall, entering the elevator. Not before the elevator doors had slid closed behind him did he notice the presence of someone else in there with him.

Patrick was wagging his tail as Drake acknowledged the dog beside him. He whimpered slightly and rubbed his head against Drakes leg before looking up at him expectantly. He still carried the gun in his hand, yet he did not have the nerve to do anything with it. Not to the dog, anyways.

_Come to me..._

Had he known that the Darkness was the reason for things coming down like they did, then he might have done things differently. How, or what, wasn't really a clear answer, though he sure as hell wouldn't have decided to follow orders from the malicious monster who had taken away the one person he actually seemed to care for, if only the slightest.

The doors of the elevator opened, and Drake stepped out of it, Patrick at his tail. Drake stopped in his tracks and cast a glance over his shoulder, the dog staring back at him, its empty eyes staring into his own, cold ones.

'I'm not waiting for you, mutt. If you want to come with me, you better be able to keep up.' Drake nearly growled, and Patrick barked playfully back as if to accept the offer. Together they exited the hotel, and Drake silently hoped the dog would be able to keep up with him, because even though he didn't like company - more precisely hated it - he was still shaken up by the previous event, and Patrick seemed to somewhat make him at ease with the situation. The way he once had for Lana.

Ever since the FAYZ started, Patrick had become a more and more important role in Lanas life. Her protecter, her savior. He'd been her anchor when the Darkness roomed her mind, and although he wasn't able to keep her sane forever, maybe he could keep Drake like that? As sane as a psychopath could be, of course.

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**So... I guess that was it guys! Or, at least I thought that this would be the ending when I wrote this chapter back in April (I wrote the entire chapter before even bothering to start on the sequel), but now I don't really know anymore. The Touch of The Healer was my first fanfiction and I just don't want to let go of it, looking beside the fact that Lana is dead.**

**I mean, who knows? Maybe she'll pull off a Lady Stoneheart and go all White Walkers on the town? Haha, no just kidding, though I do actually consider turning it into a trilogy, where the last one is basically just about Drake coping with her death as he tries to find peace with the darkness. Obviously, that never seemed like an interesting enough idea to me though, until I realized how much I wanted to develop a badass friendship between him and Patrick. Or maybe some Sake...? *wiggles eyebrows***

**So yeah, I don't know yet, I'm sort of just trying to figure out where I stand with this story, and wether or not it is worth continuing on.**

**What do you guys think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the sudden deaths of the chapter. Were they too predictable, or were you left hanging with your mouths wide open? Hope I'll hear your thoughts on this!**

**So I read this HP fanfic which ended with some "funfacts" on the authorsnote, and while they might not be hilarious, I at least find it interesting to read some "behind the scenes" stuff to the stories that I read, so here we go ;)**

**1\. _There was always gonna be some huge death. _I had planned that part from the very beginning of The Touch of A Healer what with me wanting to "pull a John Green", yet who and how was a big dilemma I was trying to figure out for a long time. I didn't think Drake would work since he dies all the time in the series anyways and a lot of people hate him. So I decided to go with Lana since I'd let her suffer through out the series and wanted her to have one final, brutal breakdown. I only added Quinn to it because I hate him. ;)**

**2\. _Lanas death was the first scene I wrote for the sequel_. When brainstorming on how to continue TToAH, I all of a sudden got this idea for her to kill herself in the ending. I remember it being the beginning of April (the day before the sequel was published) that I sat down and scribbled the entire ending. Since then I've only edited it slightly every once in a while, yet the majority of it stays the same. Only today did I realize that although I had her speech and all, I didn't actually have the part where she shoots herself ready, which did cause a huge struggle what with me having to write that all of a sudden.**

**3\. _Sam was supposed to be Lanas new love interest. _True, I had indeed been writing the entire sequel with him being the new guy she met on in the town. I had a lot of good scenes between the two of them, and I was really happy about them as a couple. In the end though, I convinced myself that Sam was too OOC if he ever ditched Astrid, so I rewrote the majority of the storyline to fit Quinn into it, also making it stick more to the original story what with the two of them becoming friends during Hunger anyhow.**

**4\. _I've always imagined Lanas and Quinns fight post-Hunger to be revolving around some kiss_. When reading the series for the first time and she mentioned Quinn dropping a glass and her lashing out on him, I always imagined him pushing it over the table while they were making out, so I decided to add it to the story since the thought never really left my mind._  
_**

**5._ I stopped regretting Lanas death when I stopped shipping her and Drake._ I remember how I originally wrote this story with the intention of Drake and Lana becoming a couple. That was really all I wanted, after having devoted so much of my time to reading a book series where I desperately wanted them to be together. When I first decided for Lana to die and I wrote this chapter, I was personally devastated. Yet over the past months I've gotten the idea that Lana would be better off without any guy at all, and that if Drake ever were to be in a relationship, it would be with... *insert drumroll* Sam. The two of them have been my OTP for a while now, and every single time I edit a fanfiction I feel like adding some Sake to it. Crazy, I know.**

**6\. _Lana was gonna get pregnant instead of Diana. _So this was basically something I came up with around March as what would occur in the following chapters of The Touch of The Healer. The intention was that the Darkness would attempt to possess Lana and Drakes baby instead, Lana would fight back, Drake would go all psycho on her blah blah blah blah blah. Don't think it was some either-or thing I was playing at, trying to figure out wether I'd make Lana crazy or pregnant; somehow I just forgot what I was originally going to turn the story into, instead spontaneously creating a sequel. And the memory of her turning pregnant, literally appeared in my mind one week ago, yet ever since then I've been thinking it through, wanting to create that version too.**

**So I don't really know. I'm not sure if either of my ideas for a trilogy or another sequel are legit or if I'm just having a hard time giving up on the story. Either how, I'm curious if any of you guys have an opinion on the trilogy with Drake and Patrick, or a second sequel to The Touch of A Healer (which will be completely unrelated to The Touch of The Darkness, for those of you who did not like this one) called The Touch of The Testicles or something...? Sorry, that was unnecessary of me. Anyhow, this is not me saying that I'm gonna do either of these stories, I might not do it at all, but it would be fun to see what you guys opinion is on this. After all, I might get shit loads of ideas over the rest of christmas break and one of these stories might be up in just a couple of weeks. Either way though, I'm gonna spend some more time thinking it through to avoid me acting on mere impulses.**

**Anyways, thanks to FAYZlover101 for your review and happy birthday! And thanks to AncientSTORM for your PM. Also a big thank you to everyone else who ever reviewed, followed or favorited this story as well as the previous one. I really really appreciate all the support over the past year. **

**And even though the story is over, another review wouldn't hurt much, now would it. ;)**


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